


Give With My Take

by Dresupi



Series: Quicktaser Fics [14]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Dream Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Girl Fight, Hand Jobs, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other characters appear as needed, Prank War, Rating will go up, Slow Burn, Smut, UST, Walking In On Someone, Wet Dream, eventual didn't last long, they date other people first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-24 16:52:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 40,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4927531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy moves in with her two new housemates at the beginning of the semester.  One of them is the most annoying dude in the world, and the other...well...the other is so hot and completely frustrating that he makes everything complicated.  Everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Is There Such a Thing as Roommate Lottery?

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to heyfrenchfreudiana for beta reading this for me. :) 
> 
> 1\. No Powers AU  
> 2\. College AU  
> 3\. Wade Wilson, because I could see him as one of those professional student types. Or maybe it's because of Van Wilder. I don't know. He's not going to be Deadpool here, I feel like I should say that. Anyway, he's here. Get used to it. :P  
> 4\. There will be smut eventually. And I do mean eventual. :/  
> 5\. The format for this is going to (hopefully) be like a rom-sit-com. I have a lot of ideas that I'm looking to incorporate. I hope it'll be fun. :)  
> Special thanks to Xullre, (brucespurplebuttons on tumblr) for this prompt! I can't find the exact post, but it went something like, "Someone walks in on their new roommate doing pushups and can't decide if it's hot or scary." 
> 
> Also, the rent Darcy mentions...idk. It's one third of the full rent for the house. I felt like it was on par with what people pay around here...but ya know. It's relative.

_Pietro Maximoff._   Darcy read the other signature on the lease in front of her. There was a third housemate, another dude.  She hadn’t met him yet either. 

Wade Wilson.  

She didn’t even know what to THINK about someone with a name like that. 

Like, honestly…he was either the craziest MF in the world, or she’d forget he lived there. 

That seemed to be her luck with roommates, maybe it was her luck with housemates as well.

And Pietro Maximoff…like…was he Russian?  Was he going to have like…guns and one of those furry hats?  And drink a lot of vodka?

That was probably a really xenophobic thing to think. 

_Jesus, Darcy…NO fucking Kremlin jokes…please. Let’s just focus on the fact that you’re going to live with two guys and you’re going to have to deal with hair in the shower drain and in the sink and you’re not even getting any dick as part of the deal._

_-On second thought, don’t focus on the dick.  At all.  Like…as far as you’re concerned, neither of these dudes HAS a dick.  Smooth like Ken dolls._

_Hair in the drain, though…that’s a potential problem._

There WERE two bathrooms.  Two and a half, actually.  Not that she’d seen them yet.  She really HAD meant to come look at the place before today, but things had gotten in the way. 

Like not actually WANTING to look at it.

She was living there, nothing was going to change that…

There wasn’t really any urgency.

Honestly, just having her own room was a step up from any of her other living situations. 

Dorm life was fun, but it was NOT for her. Her first roommate had slept all the time, and the second one partied hard and cried a lot. 

Actually, the only thing she was worried about was moving in with two guys. But they both had excellent references from past housemates, and they both had jobs.  That was really all she was looking for. Dependable and not creepy.

_Those past housemates didn’t say anything about hair in the drain, though.  Dammit, I should have asked about that._

She dotted the ‘i’ in Lewis and handed the pen to the property manager, who slid a key across the desk to her. 

She took out her checkbook to pay her part of the first month’s rent, but the tired looking woman waved it away.

“That first guy…Pete whatever…paid the rent already.  I guess talk to him about that…I don’t want a bunch of checks every month.  Pool it and write one check.  Mail it in, get it here on time.  I don’t want a bunch of college kids gumming up my office. Got it?”

“Yep…” Darcy snapped her checkbook closed and returned it to her purse.

She’d be FINE with not having to deal with this witch on a regular basis. 

“You’re all on the same lease, this isn’t University housing,” she added, like Darcy didn’t know.      

_Great, so if someone’s a deadbeat, the others are going to have to cover them.  Awesome. I don’t know why I didn’t think about that before now…who the fuck let me become an adult?_

Darcy pulled out her keys and slid the new one on the ring.  She left the real estate office and got in her car, which was packed full of all of her crap from her dorm room last year, plus all her new stuff. 

She plugged the address into her phone and made the 15 minute trek across town to where she was actually living. 

It was a cute house.  Like…really cute.  It had a small front yard and a gravel driveway with a carport.

And it was close to the campus. 

Really close.  She could probably walk in every day.

 _Yeah, like THAT’S happening._     

There was one other car under the carport, a blue sedan, so she parked beside it. 

She wasn’t the first one here, but she could have guessed that from her conversation with the Wicked Witch over at the real estate office.          

She REALLY hoped she was early enough to get a decent pick of the bedrooms. 

She went up to the porch, her footsteps thumping on the steps.  She propped the box against the door and tried the knob. 

Locked, of course. 

She balanced the box and her bags carefully while she dug out her keys and unlocked the door, swinging it open with a bang.    

And there, on the cheap Berber carpeted floor of the nearly bare living room, was fucking Adonis.

Okay, so maybe her summer reading of Edith Hamilton’s Mythology was messing with her head. 

But he looked like a fucking deity.

Doing pushups in the middle of the floor, his biceps rippling, back glistening with sweat.  His longish brown hair pulled back into a low knot at the back of his head. 

 _No shirt, no shoes, no problem…_ she thought wistfully to herself. 

He glanced up at her, a vein sticking out in his forehead as he halted the brutal pace he was…pushing up to. 

He jumped to his feet, pulling the earbuds out of his ears and holding his hand out.    

“Sorry…I didn’t hear you at the door…You must be Darcy?  Lewis?” he asked, his accent definitely not American.  Russian or Ukrainian or something.  Romanian?

_Fuck me. An accent AND pecs to knock on._

“Uh…yeah…yeah.  That’s me…” she grinned widely and taking his hand.  “Umm…Are you Wade?  Or are you Pietro?” 

She didn’t want to assume anything based on his accent.  

He grinned, somehow transforming his whole look from ‘Daddy-spank-me’ to ‘boy-next-door’ in about .03 seconds.  “I’m Pietro…I…uh…I won’t be doing this all the time…”  He gestured to the floor, breathing heavily, “I have a pull up bar…I just have to install it…”

_Honestly dude…wherever you want to do this.  Go for it. You have my full support._

“Is that her?” Another voice called from the kitchen, interrupting him. A dark haired guy eating a banana came out into the living room.  “Me…Wade…” he gestured towards himself with the banana. He was decidedly less-Adonis-like.  Not bad, though.  “You…Darcy?”   

“Yes…” 

“Him…Pietro!” Wade pointed animatedly towards the shirtless work of art to his left.  “So yeah…I took the big room.  Got here first. Deal with it…I guess.”  He shrugged. “I wouldn’t be opposed to wrestling for the right.  Just…not with Pietro…I’m not looking to get my ass kicked.”    

_I could probably kick your ass twice in the time it took him to pin you.  Didn’t take self-defense classes for a year and a half for nothing.  Of course, I’m sure Pietro wouldn’t knee you in the nads either._

She cocked an eyebrow, pursing her lips and looking around awkwardly.    

“Uh…he got the room with its own bathroom…” Pietro said almost apologetically.  “The other two rooms share one.” 

“Oh, so I’m…” 

“Sharing a bathroom with me, yes.” 

“Okay…” 

_Fuck. I’m not sure if this is good or bad._

_-Bad.  It’s bad.  You have to keep your tampons under the sink in a bathroom you share with that fine specimen over there._

“Unless you want to bathe in the tiny sink in the half bath that’s off the living room…” Wade offered.  “No one’s claimed that one yet.” 

_Fuck you, Wade.  And that’s the last time that will be internalized.  You’re welcome._

“Uh…Pietro…I owe you money, I think?” she asked, pulling out her wallet, desperate to change the topic.  “I have cash, or I can write you a check…” 

“Cash is fine, I’ll never get around to cashing the check…”

She pulled the correct number of bills out of her wallet and counted it out to him.  Three hundred bucks for her share of the rent.

She slid her wallet back into her purse, looking between the two of them. “Alright, which room is mine?” 

Pietro gestured behind him towards the hallway, “Either one of these…” he pointed to two doors on either end of the short hallway. 

“Which one do you want?” 

He shrugged noncommittally. 

“Uh…I guess this one…” she chose the door on the left, not really caring at this point.    

“Didn’t you want to look inside first?” he asked, chuckling slightly. 

“Let me guess, white walls and too small closets?  I don’t really think it matters.” 

She kicked open the door to the room she’d chosen. Beige walls and what appeared to be a microscopic closet.  There was a door on the other side of the room that she assumed went to their shared bathroom.

“Beige walls.  My bad,” she corrected herself. 

She dropped her bags on the floor by the door, setting her box beside them before turning and walking back out to the living room.  “I thought someone was bringing a couch…” She looked around the room.  Mostly empty save a very heavy looking TV cabinet that was probably stylish circa 1982, with a flat screen TV on top. 

_Guys and their priorities…_

“Uh…my sister ended up with the couch…” said Pietro sheepishly.  “Sorry…” 

“Cool, I will start looking on Craigslist then…” she said as she went outside. 

Darcy Lewis was a shrewd haggler.  She’d have a decent couch by the end of the week for under fifty bucks. 

She was not, however, someone who possessed upper body strength.  She was harshly reminded of this when she tried to unload her car on her own. 

She settled for a bunch of clothes on hangers and her laptop. 

She opened the door again to find both of them still in the hall where she’d left them. 

“Hey, so if I buy dinner tonight, will you guys go unload my car?” 

They paused for a moment, looking at each other for confirmation before tripping over themselves to go bring in her stuff. 

_God, amateurs.  I didn’t even say what I was going to get for dinner and they agreed. I could be buying frozen pizzas._

She hung up the clothes in the closet and placed her laptop on top of her box of desk stuff.

* * *

 

And later that evening when she was trying to juggle Kung Pow chicken and her new _Arkelstorp_ desk from Ikea, she wished she’d thrown furniture assembly into the deal.  Because fifty bucks for Chinese food hardly seemed worth the mere 45 minutes it took them to unload her car and dump its contents on the floor of her bedroom.

She looked over her shoulder at her bed.

She’d gotten the frame put together with almost no bloodshed. At least nothing a Band-Aid couldn’t fix. 

She’d wrestled her sheets onto her mattress in under 10 minutes. 

But this desk.  And the dresser.  And the nightstand. And the bookcases. 

Why the fuck hadn’t she let her dad come up here with her? 

Oh right. 

Because he would have flipped his shit if he knew she was living with two dudes. 

“Jesus…FUCK…God…Shit…FUCKER!” she yelped when she pinched her thumb for the five hundredth time. 

There was a knock at her door.  “Everything okay?” 

He nudged the door open a little.  He was wearing a shirt now. A white t-shirt and track pants.   And his hair was wet. And long enough to make his t-shirt collar damp. 

From the shower he’d taken in their shared bathroom. 

She was NOT thinking about what he looked like in the shower when she heard the water running earlier.  NOT AT ALL. 

“Where are you from, dude?”

On the off chance it was somewhere in Scandinavia and he was the long lost Prince of Ikea and knew how the fuck to put everything together.   

He tilted his head, as if surprised by her question.  “Sokovia.”

_?!_

“Where the fuck’s that?” 

“Um…between Austria and the Czech Republic…”

_So near Germany then.  Damn._

“So nowhere near Sweden?” 

He chuckled, “No.”

He rocked back on his heels, surveying the mess on her floor with half interest.  

“Are you any good at this?” she waved her hand around. 

He shrugged, a gesture that she wasn’t entirely sure if she liked yet.  Was it endearing, was it annoying?  Only time would tell.  “I could try.” 

“Oh God, thank you.” 

“No problem…”  He sat down on the floor with her and tossed the directions aside when she handed them to him. 

And somehow, two hours later, he had her desk, her dresser and her nightstand put together. 

And she had her laptop set up.  And a fresh wound on her index finger. 

And more importantly, she knew a few things about her new housemate. 

He was single.  Not that it should matter to her, since she had mentally neutered him.  Smooth like a Ken doll. 

He was a twin.  Which was cool.  His sister’s name was Wanda. 

He was a track star.  Hence all the working out.  He’d informed her that he’d be up early to get ready since he liked to run before his first class.  He apparently held a few records.  It was too bad she didn’t really follow much more than Football here, or she might have known who he was. 

He smelled strongly of Axe deodorant. Which was a major turnoff.  She’d just have to focus on that more than his rippling biceps, or his pecs, or those thighs.  Those gorgeous runner’s thighs.

“Can I finish the rest later?  I uh…need to get to bed…” He stood up and stretched his arms over his head, his shirt rising up with them, baring a scant half inch of skin at his waist. 

_God, I am fucking sad.  He’s off limits, Lewis._

“Yeah, that’s…totally fine…Thanks so much for…this…it really helped me out…” 

“No problem…” He got up to leave, waving briefly before exiting the room.

She got up and started putting away her clothes in the drawers of her dresser.  She had thought about doing it while he was in here, but she didn’t want to run the risk of him seeing her panties.  As juvenile as that sounded.  He’d probably see them eventually.  She’d leave them in the dryer or something. They’d fall out of her laundry basket on her way to or from the laundry room. 

Well…and she also felt kind of obligated to help him.  Arbitrarily holding things up that didn’t really need it, and handing him screws and bolts when he was perfectly capable of doing it himself. 

It felt lazy to do otherwise. 

Like she expected him to do this or something.    

Hell, she might try her hand at putting the bookshelves together on her own now that she’d seen him assemble three pieces by himself. 

And he’d probably have to come in here and fix it, but it felt like the polite thing to do. 

After her unmentionables were safely tucked away, she went into the bathroom for a shower.

She figured, Pietro had gone to bed a half hour ago, he was probably done with his bathroom routine by now.  

She knocked softly on the door to make sure he wasn’t in there. 

“Hello?” she said, peeking her head into the dark bathroom.

She flipped on the light and dropped her pajamas on the vanity so they wouldn’t get wet on the floor.

It was actually a decent sized bathroom.  A tub/shower against the wall, a window over the toilet and a dual vanity.  She doubted it would ever get used as such, but it was nice nonetheless. 

There was a door directly across from hers that went into Pietro’s bedroom, she assumed. 

It bothered her somewhat that the doors couldn’t lock from the inside, only from the outside in the rooms. 

She’d have to ask Pietro if they could switch the doorknobs around or something.    

She made a mental list of all the things she needed to do the next day as she pulled her top over her head. She was halfway out of her bra when the other door opened, Pietro was completely inside the room before she could make a sound.   

She stammered intelligibly, unsure if she should try to cover herself or shut the door. 

She opted for cover herself, but it was too little too late, he had already seen one boob and the other was hell-bent on freedom as well. 

 It was an admirable effort.  Pietro was trying not to look, but failing miserably.  Staring openly at her chest and back up to her face and down to her chest again. 

She abandoned the bra completely and cupped her hands over her breasts, trying at least to cover her nipples. 

Fuck, this was a disaster. 

She was standing there, hands full of her own breasts while her new housemate swore in what certainly was his native language before he switched to English. 

“Fuck…I am so sorry…” he shielded his eyes so he didn’t look at her.  “I am so sorry, I didn’t know you were in here…” 

She grabbed for her shirt, pulling it over her head.  It was inside out and backwards, but at least the ladies weren’t on display anymore. 

“I didn’t know if you were in here either when I came in…but I fucking KNOCKED,” she said deliberately. 

“Sorry…sorry, yes….I will knock.  I will knock…next time I will knock…” He blushed profusely, which would have been cute in literally ANY OTHER SITUATION.    

“A whole lot of good that does, you’ve already seen them!” 

“No…no…I didn’t…I was looking at…the…” he trailed off. “I don’t know!  Okay?  I am so, SO sorry…I was completely caught off guard…they are very—“ 

“Very WHAT?” 

“Symmetric?” he practically squeaked.   

“Symmetric?” she exclaimed.  “Symmetric.  Of all the fucking words you could use, SYMMETRIC?  REALLY?  What, when you’re sleeping with a woman, you’re like, ‘oh baby, your tits…they’re so SYMMETRIC?’” 

“I—I thought you’d get upset if I said they were nice.  Nice, NICE was what I was going to say.  They’re very, VERY nice,” he offered. 

She blinked, unsure of what to say to that.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest protectively.  “Thank you…” 

“You’re welcome…” he scratched the back of his head, ruffling his hair. 

“Um…” she looked pointedly at the door. 

“Sorry…SORRY…I’m so sorry…” he repeated, turning and shutting the door behind him.  She heard the lock click into place from the other side. 

She sat down hard on the side of the tub and turned on the water. 

“Good job, Lewis.  Not even one day, and he’s already seen your boobs.  It’s all downhill from here.” 

 

 

    

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments would be AWESOME! Let me know what you think!!!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://dresupi.tumblr.com)


	2. Of Winkies and Vodka Super-Soakers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> I think the title says it all, in my honest opinion. :P 
> 
> But I will ask that you extend a look up to the rating, and note that it has already been raised to E. 
> 
> I might have said eventual smut, and I didn't know how soon eventual would be. :P 
> 
> They aren't together yet. So it's some...solo smut. *shrugs* What can I say? I'm a terrible trash monster. Come...make trash angels with me...
> 
>  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to heyfrenchfreudiana AND ozhawk for all their advice and help with this chapter. :)

Pietro closed the door behind him, blocking out the rising sun and its annoying…brightness. 

He yawned, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face in the process. 

Six in the morning and already humid as hell. Fucking Texas. Why the fuck did he come to Texas?  He could have gone ANYWHERE. 

Well, not anywhere, but nearly.     

He kicked off his shoes in a huff. His mile had been embarrassing.  Seven minutes four seconds.  And that was when he was pushing himself.  Nowhere near his personal best.  Not bad for the average guy, but he didn’t get a free ride to college because he was average.   

It might have helped if he wasn’t exhausted…he hadn’t slept at all the night before.  His brain was fuzzy and muddled with images of the girl in the next room. 

Fuck, he was hung up on this for some reason. Hung up on HER.

_Why in hell did this have to happen?_

He’d been doing well…for the first few hours, anyway.  He’d helped her with her furniture, and expected NOTHING in return.  She was nice.  It was easy to talk to her…and the best part?  He couldn’t fuck it up.  Not in a million years.  Because she was off limits romantically, so he could actually try to be friends with her.   

He could see that. Friends.  With Darcy. 

_Darcy, she’s my friend.  She IS awesome, isn’t she?_

And that’s what he needed, right?  A female friend he wasn’t related to? 

She was funny and smart…and made him feel like he was interesting.  Whether or not he actually WAS interesting was irrelevant.  The fact was, he could EASILY see himself hanging out with her.  She was refreshing.    

And then, he had to walk in on her getting undressed.

If it had been any other girl, he’d have jerked off and called it a night. 

But it felt…wrong? 

Because she was off limits.

And he didn’t need those images in his head. 

Because he had seen a LOT of porn in his day and the things he wanted to think about her doing…things he wanted to do to her…it was all so very wrong. 

Because he’d see her every day.  And have to think about that. 

And he wasn’t sure the two things were compatible.

Now he was half hard just THINKING about thinking about it.  

He went into his room, pulling a change of clothes out of his dresser and crossing the floor to the bathroom. 

He knocked on the door once, twice, three times before he was sufficiently certain that no one was inside. 

He turned on the water in the shower and stripped off his clothes. 

A cold shower was what he needed.

Hopefully it would take care of his problem.

All it did, however, was cause goosebumps to rise on his skin, and even THAT made him think of the night before. 

About how SHE had goosebumps, either from the temperature in the room or nerves.  A little of both? 

_Her nipples were hard._

_-Oh fuck, stop it…_

His hand slid down, palming his slightly-more-than-half-hard dick. Impressive for a cold shower.  Even for him.   

_No one would ever know…you can get her out of your system._

The lies he told himself… 

He turned up the temperature of the water and stifled a groan as he palmed himself again. Rougher than before.   

He braced his weight with one hand on the shower wall and finally wrapped his hand around his dick, which was well on its way to painfully stiff.

He closed his eyes and allowed only one image into his mind:  the image of Darcy as she was the night before, her top off, nipples hard, hands cupping her breasts. They were surprisingly perky, given their size…coffee colored nipples standing out against her pale skin…fucking perfect.

How quickly his mind twisted the image so that instead of hiding them, she was offering them. 

_She knelt down in front of him in the shower, her hands massaging her breasts. Her dark grey eyes boring into his. She still had her jeans on, which was…somehow fucking hotter than if she didn’t.  Soaking wet and clinging to her thighs._

He slid his hand up and down his length.  His breath came out in gasps. 

God, he wanted to touch them.

_Gorgeous, smooth skin…soft and slippery in the water. She shivered when he grazed her nipples._

_She licked along her lips, her hands over his as his thumbs slid over her nipples. Her gaze went down to his cock.  “You wanna come on my tits?” she murmured._

_“Darcy…” he moaned, almost pleadingly._

_Her hand reaching out, wrapping around him, sliding up and down his cock. Squeezing just right, slowly speeding up…_

His hand sped up to match, chasing the pull in his gut…his lower back.  Fuck, it almost hurt.

 _His cock angled down towards her breasts, bouncing as she jerked him off.  Her free hand slid up his thigh._   

_He came with a groan, splattering it all over those perfect tits, a little bit catching on her chin, getting washed away by the shower._

“Fuck…” he exhaled, the water dripping down his face as he twitched and shook with the aftershocks.  “Fuck…” 

* * *

 

He emerged from his bedroom around ten, after he heard her get up and go in the bathroom.  He walked out into the kitchen for a snack and found Wade sitting cross-legged on the countertop beside the sink, eating what looked to be Cocoa Puffs.  With bananas.    

“Mor-ning,” Wade sing-songed, his mouth half-full of cereal.   

Pietro nodded once in response. 

“You were up early.” 

“Yep.” 

_Take the hint.  Read the room, Buddy._

“Couldn’t sleep…or?” 

“I always get up early…to run?” 

“Oh right.  Track star.  Forgot.” 

“I don’t know about…star…but…” Pietro opened the fridge and pulled out some yogurt. 

“Where’s the girl?” Wade asked, lifting his bowl up to his mouth and slurping the milk loudly.    

“How should I know?” Pietro ripped the foil lid off of the yogurt, slinging it a little too enthusiastically towards the trash can.      

Wade didn’t say anything, but his eyebrows shot up.  “I don’t know.  Maybe because you are both on the same side of the house and you’ve been up since a half hour before I went to bed…”  He scraped the last of the cereal out of the bowl and set it in the sink. 

“I guess she’s in the shower…” he felt his face grow red as the image of her came gliding back into his mind. Naked from the waist up, soaking wet and covered in—

He aggressively dug the spoon into his yogurt, not bothering to stir it.  He jammed it into his mouth to keep himself from saying something embarrassing.  

_Fruit on the bottom.  Yuck._

He sighed and stirred it quickly, resolving to never buy this type again.

He glanced back up at Wade just in time to catch his bemused expression.  He shifted his gaze elsewhere, into his yogurt.  Blueberry, he saw now. 

_Eat it fast and get the hell out of here._

“Good morning!” Darcy said brightly as she walked into the kitchen. 

_Fuck…_

“Morning…” Wade said, looking between her and Pietro. 

“Good morning,” Pietro mumbled, staring even deeper into his yogurt. 

“I am GLAD you’re both here…we need to lay down some ground rules…” Darcy said as she grabbed a banana and began to peel it.

 _Fuck, really?_ He watched as she took a bite of the phallic shaped fruit, completely transfixed by her lips.  

“How about no food stealing?” Wade griped, folding his arms and leaning back on the sink. 

“What?” she glanced down at the banana.  “Oh.  I haven’t gone shopping yet.  I’ll replace it.  Plus…I fucking bought you dinner last night, so I don’t want to hear it.” 

“Dinner in EXCHANGE for services.” 

She shot him a look of indifference, her eyebrow arched.  Pietro was actually glad that Wade was taking some of the focus off him, because he was pretty sure that SQUIRMING in her presence was a red flag. 

“You brought in 4 boxes and dumped them on the floor of my room.” 

“That’s because Hercules over here got all the heavy stuff,” he jutted his thumb in Pietro’s direction. 

“I’m sure you were fighting him for it,” she quipped sardonically.  “But, that’s beside the point.  The point is, we need ground rules.  We are three adult…ish…type people living under one roof.”  She took another bite of the banana and Pietro shifted uncomfortably. She glanced over at him.  “Rule one:  Always knock.” 

The silence that followed was EASILY the longest minute that ever passed. 

Wade looked between them rapidly, “Wait…wait…something happened…what did YOU do?” he asked Pietro accusingly. 

His face grew hot and he shook his head, “Not…important.”

Darcy waved her hand dismissively.  “I understand it’s a shared bathroom, but I really don’t want to get walked in on while I’m undressing…” 

Wade’s mouth fell open.  He immediately covered it with his hand, but it didn’t help. 

If his face felt hot before, it was positively on FIRE now.  “I—I—I did not MEAN for that to happen…I am SO sorry…” 

“What did he see?” Wade asked.  “What did he walk in on?” 

“Not…important…”  Pietro muttered. 

“Just the top half…” Darcy clarified. 

Wade shrugged, “Well, it could have been worse, but your friendship is effectively over before it began. Ah…C’est la vie.” 

Darcy frowned, “That’s kind of a terrible thing to say…” 

“What?  It’s true.  That’s all logged away in his spank bank now.” 

Pietro coughed, almost choking on the yogurt in his mouth. 

“Okay, gross.  But whatever.  It’s not a big deal unless we make it a big deal…right?” she turned to look at him now.  Eyes wide and mouth twisted into a thin line. 

“R—Right,” he stammered.  “Not a…big deal.” 

Wade chuckled, “You know what would even the score?” 

“Do NOT say if I saw his—“ 

“If you saw his winkie,” he finished with a grin.    

Pietro covered his face momentarily, shaking his head, “No…no…no…I will not be showing her my…” he trailed off. 

“Your WINKIE?” she provided, raising her eyebrows. 

“Don’t…don’t call it that…that word…you hear it…eh…you think small.” 

“Winkie’s so CUTE though…” she trailed off. 

He looked at her knowingly. 

“Right.  Cute.  Not a word to describe…THAT.”    

“Bald Butler?” supplied Wade.

Pietro groaned.  “Guys…come on…” 

“Long Dong Silver…Mr. Toad’s WILD RIDE?”  

“Your Gleaming Love Sword?” Darcy added, biting her lip to hold back laughter. 

“Ooo, nice.  Very Harlequin romance…”  Wade held up his hand for a high five, which Darcy bestowed. 

“Let’s just call it a penis and leave it at that…” Pietro said, throwing his uneaten yogurt in the trash, and the spoon into the sink with a clatter.  “It does NOT matter anyway…no one here will be seeing it.” 

“Yeah…you’re right.  It wouldn’t make it any less awkward,” she agreed.

Pietro breathed a bit easier.  Not that he wouldn’t have shown it to her if she really wanted to see it...

 _THAT is a dangerous line of thought._     

Wade shrugged and grabbed his bag from the kitchen table.  “Whatever, as long as it doesn’t interfere with my living situation, do what you want. I’m late…” 

“You going to work?” Darcy asked. 

Wade paused for a second at the door before walking out briskly.  “Sure.”

They were both standing there staring at the entrance to the kitchen when they heard the front door open and close. 

“Do we know what he does?” asked Darcy. 

Pietro shrugged and turned towards the hall, “No idea.” 

He had taken a few steps when she stopped him. 

“About this winkie business…” 

He turned back to face her.  Her gray eyes were sparkling brightly.  Her dark hair was standing out against the pale yellow wallpaper.  “What happened to “it won’t make it any less awkward…’?” 

“Like I’m going to let Wade think he helped in any way…besides.  It MIGHT make me feel a little less…on display…” 

He laughed and turned to walk back out to the living room.  She followed him, so he grabbed his shirt by the hem and lifted it over his head.  He turned back towards her with a smug grin, “There.  We are EVEN.”  He balled up the shirt and chucked it at her. 

She caught it in mid-air. “Not even CLOSE, Wonder Boy.” 

He cocked an eyebrow, “It’s…kind of close. I saw your boobs.  You’ve seen mine.  TWICE, I might add.” 

He tried to ignore the way her gaze swept up and down his body. It wasn’t the first time someone had ogled him and it wouldn’t be the last.  Hell, it wasn’t even the first time SHE’D ogled him.  Like he hadn’t seen that mini-heart-attack she’d had when she opened the door yesterday. 

“If you want, I can make them dance…” he grinned and flexed his pecs a little.     

She rolled her eyes, tucking his shirt under her arm, “I’m keeping this by the way.” 

“Thief.” 

“Peeping Tom…” she countered, glancing around the mostly bare living room, her eyes settling on something to his left.  “What’s that?  Is that a super soaker?” 

“What?” Confused, he turned to look in the direction she was looking. 

She darted over, grabbing a rather large orange and green plastic water gun of the top of a pile of boxes. “This yours?” 

“Nope.  Wade’s I guess.” 

She grinned devilishly, pumping the gun in a way that was…nothing short of sexual. 

He was a little blindsided by the sight of her, her green tank top clad upper body, pumping very diligently on that gun…so it took him longer than it should have to realize what she was up to. 

“DARCY…NO!” he cried out when she sprayed him full on in the chest with the contents of the gun.  Which, turned out to be not water, but vodka. 

“Oooppss…” she stuck her bottom lip out.  “I thought you wanted to dance…” 

He glared at her, looking down at his front.  “You wet my pants,” he growled. 

She shrugged, a vaguely smug expression stretched across her face.  “You saw my boobs.” 

“This is war, Lewis.” 

“Bring it, Maximoff…” she sprayed him again, effectively emptying the gun. 

He looked down to where his pants were dripping vodka on the carpet. 

“Better clean that up…” she smirked, shouldering the gun.  She sniffed at it absently.  “God…is that…VODKA?  Did I spray you with a fifth of VODKA?  Damn…let me get a glass of OJ, you can squeeze your pants over it and make me a screwdriver.” 

He pursed his lips, trying to maintain the angry expression and failing.  Because he’d honestly like nothing more than to tackle her to the floor, but he was really sure that wasn’t appropriate.  Even if he hadn’t quite figured out what he’d do once he got her there. 

“You are in for it now,” he said, struggling to keep from laughing. 

She waggled her eyebrows. “And I can handle whatever you throw at me.  Do not underestimate the power of a Lewis woman. Mark my words, you’ll be begging for mercy in a week.” 

He watched her saunter off to her bedroom, leaving him to clean up the vodka mess on the floor. He made a mental note to ask Wade why the fuck he had a vodka-filled water gun, though.    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration:
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> Comments would be lovely. I live for them. <3


	3. Maybe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> In which, Darcy is confused by Pietro's mixed signals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm introducing my OFC, Alice, into this fic, simply because Jane as a best friend didn't really make sense for a college AU, and let's face it, Darcy needs some outside advice once in a while. She's my baby, so please be nice. ;) (Really, she's not going to be in this fic all that much, but I felt the need to talk about her anyway, ;) ) 
> 
> Mad props if you can guess who her professor is. ;) No fair if you've read my other fics. :P
> 
> Also, this prank that Pietro pulls on Darcy, actually came from an episode of Roseanne. But, I liked it. And it sounded like something a lil' shit like him would do. 
> 
> Also also, this takes place a few weeks after chapter 2. The semester has started, they've been living together about a month. :)
> 
> Special thanks to heyfrenchfreudiana for being an awesome beta for this chapter! (and all the rest that she's beta'd for me)

“So…what kind of radio show is it?” asked Wade, throwing a piece of popcorn up in the air and opening his mouth to catch it.  He didn’t, it hit him in the nose and fell on the floor.  Just like all the rest. 

“Literally whatever I want…” Darcy said excitedly.  Honestly…best work study assignment EVER.  She got paid a lump sum at the beginning of the semester, AND she only had to work one night a week, AND it could go on her resume.  Score. 

“But it’s on campus radio, so no one’s going to hear it.” 

Well, there WAS that.

She scowled over at him from her perch on the couch.  “Make sure you pick those up…” she gestured to the popcorn on the floor.  “We’re going to get ants.” 

“Ants don’t like popcorn.  I have it on good authority.”

“Whose?  Whose authority?” 

“My friend Scott.  He’s an exterminator.”    

She blinked a few times, “Roaches then.” 

Wade grudgingly rolled out of the arm chair, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll take care of it…how long do you have to pick a topic for the show?” he asked. 

“Two weeks.  I was going to do a music show…showcase artists and bands, interview them in between sets…” 

He started meticulously picking up each popcorn piece, “No offense, but that would be better as a TV show…” 

She sighed exasperatedly, “Yeah…the guy in charge thought so too…but I guess I didn’t pitch it very well…” She rolled her eyes, glancing at the jeans she’d draped over the arm of the couch.  “It didn’t help that I had fucking…RAINBOW ASS for the whole time I was talking to him…”

Wade snickered, “On a scale of one to ten stab wounds, how dead is Piet for that?” 

“Oh pretty dead.  I’d say…seven or eight.”  She shook her head in disgust. Her face got hot every time she LOOKED at the jeans. She couldn’t BELIEVE him. 

He’d put bath oil beads in her back pockets, so that when she sat down, they burst. AND, to add insult to injury, they were HER bath beads. But it wasn’t just bath oil.  Oh no.  It was the DYED bath oil that tinted the tub water.   

She was going to strangle Pietro in his sleep.  

“YOU didn’t know about this, did you?” she rounded on Wade. 

“What? No.  I am LITERALLY Sergeant Shultz in this one.  I hear nothing, I see nothing, I know nothing…” 

“You DO know Shultz was usually lying when he said that, right?” 

“I MAY recall something to that nature…but not to worry, I’m actually telling the truth.  Like a…non-lying Sergeant Shultz…a Shultz who did as he was told…a Shultz that was a…good Nazi…” he trailed off for a second.  “Not saying that I am a good Nazi.  OR a bad Nazi.  I am not a Nazi at all—“ 

“Stop talking.” 

“Yeah.  That would be the smart thing to do…” he cleared his throat, “I’m NOT a Nazi, it’s important to me that you know that.” 

“I KNOW!  Jesus.” 

“Well, now…I’m not SAYING I’m Jesus, but I certainly am not a member of a racist fascist organization.”

“So what you’re saying is…you were in on this with Piet and I should murder you as well.” 

“NO.  I was at my job.  Being a good tax-paying, rent-paying, contributing member of society…” 

“I pay rent, thank you very much!” 

“Yes, but do you pay taxes?” 

“Well…I’m on financial aid…so no…”

He grinned in triumph.

She grumbled quietly, picking at the hem of the jeans.

“Oh, come on, Darcy.  You’ll be a tax paying, soulless cog in the machine soon enough.  Don’t fret.” 

“No, it’s not that.  I’m not ashamed of financial aid.  All the cool kids get financial aid…it’s just…I really liked these jeans…they were my favorite…” she whined. 

“Can’t take it with you, Lewis,” Wade said with a smirk, walking out to the kitchen to throw away his popcorn.  He dashed back in and took a running leap into the chair. 

“Please don’t break that…my haggler is still on cooldown…” 

“I’m sorry…” he scoffed, “But, you didn’t get BOTH this chair and that couch for fifty bucks.  You stole them from a furniture store or something.” 

“I did not. I told you, I’m an EXPERT haggler.  Learned from my dad, and my dad’s the best.” 

“Whatever.  If I find out you’re indebted to the chair mafia, I’m not helping you out.  No WAY.  Not after last time."  He shifted around in the chair until he was sitting backwards.  He slowly leaned back until his feet were resting on the head rest and he was peering at her upside-down. 

“What do you MEAN, last time?  IS there a chair mafia?” 

He raised his eyebrows, “IS there?” 

“I don’t know, YOU brought it up.” 

“See…THAT sounds like something someone indebted to the chair mafia would say…” 

She chucked a cushion at him.  “SO, BACK TO MY PROBLEM…”

“Which problem?  Piet destroyed your ass or the radio show thing?” 

“The radio show th—Piet did NOT destroy my ass.”

Wade grinned. 

She rolled her eyes, “Stop it.  Radio show.” 

He sighed heavily, “Radio show, your idea got nixed, you have no others.  Brainstorming time.  Hit me, Hurricane Darcy.”

 _Geez…don’t make me twist your arm…_  

“Okay, so I can either do a talk show format, or like…DJ with some talking in between songs…” 

He stopped, appearing to think. “When’s it airing?” 

“I have the Friday night block.  Seven to midnight.”    

He grinned, raising himself so he was upright again, “Okay, easy.  DJ a classic rock block, and around ten or so, switch to all Zeppelin and Floyd.  Sell ad space to all the pizza joints.  Hehe, joints.  See what I did there?” He mimed smoking a joint to hammer the point home just in case she was born yesterday. 

She shook her head, “Yeah, but that’s too easy…I need something that’s going to set me apart.  Talk radio would do that.” 

“So have all the high people call in and play back all the really funny ones.  Like the guys who are rolling after their own legs and the ones with the crackpot conspiracy theories.” 

“I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed to talk about ANY of that on air…” 

The front door opened and closed.

_Ah…Piet…your doom awaits you…_

“Hold that thought…I have to go kill someone…” 

She turned towards the door to make sure it was Pietro.  It was.  Coming back from his afternoon run.  All he fucking DID was run. 

She stood and grabbed the jeans off the arm of the couch.

Pietro removed his earbuds, widening his eyes in an effort to look innocent. 

“What the hell, Maximoff?”  She held the ruined jeans up, exposing the back pockets, which were oily and stained with bright colors.

He snorted, covering his mouth.  “When did you…find out? “ 

“Oh, a good Samaritan told me at the end of my last class today.  You little shit…” she threw them at his face, he caught them, laughing. 

“Dude, you are a dead man…” Wade said from his place in the chair.    

“This means war, Maximoff.  Kiss your ass goodbye…” she growled.    

He was laughing too hard to care. 

“Those were my favorite jeans, Asshole!” 

“Now they look like they covered the ass that squished Rainbow Dash…” Wade commented. 

Pietro cackled more, sliding down the wall to the floor when Darcy started pummeling him with her fists. 

“Stop…STOP, you angry bumble bee…” he caught both of her wrists and held them fast.  “I’ll have them cleaned for you, or I’ll pay to replace them.  I just wanted to get you back for vodka pants.” 

“Vodka pants…” Wade frowned.  “You didn’t tell me YOU initiated this prank war, Lewis.” 

“Why did you have a water gun filled with vodka?” asked Pietro.

“You found my Super Soaker?” Wade asked, looking between them.

“It was in the living room!” she shrugged.

“So you just…SHOT SOMEONE WITH IT?” 

“I thought it was water!” Darcy protested.  “Why was it filled with vodka?” 

“That’s…classified information…and now that I think about it, not really a big deal. It was cheap vodka.” 

Pietro sniffed, “You’re telling me.  She soaked me with it and my fucking laundry hamper smelled like a Russian birthday party.”

“Did it remind you of the ‘Old Country’, Pietro?” Wade smirked. 

“I am NOT Russian. I am Sokovian.” 

“Oh.  My mistake…”    

Darcy interrupted, “You’d better be able to clean them. They made my ass look AMAZING.” 

Piet snorted, “I think they draw more attention to your ass now.”  He snapped his fingers,   “Improvement.” 

She sighed in disgust and vaulted over the back of the couch.  She stretched her legs out and got out her phone.  She jumped in surprise when Pietro sat down on her legs with his bony ass.  She immediately yanked her feet up close to her and turned her back to him. 

“Oh, so you’re not talking to me now?” 

She shrugged, staring at her phone.

“That’s REALLY mature.  You’re just mad that I beat you.” 

She sniffed.  In order to be beaten, you had to end the war.  And this was FAR from over.

“Look…I’ll replace your bath beads, too, okay?” he was closer now, his voice was almost in her ear. “Just…don’t give me the silent treatment all night, please?  Truce?  For now?” 

She narrowed her eyes at him.  “Fine.  Truce.” 

He grinned in that way he had.  The way that made it almost impossible to be mad at him. 

Let him think he had won.     

“So…I’m going to watch Eraserhead tonight for my film class tomorrow…anyone wanna join me?” she asked, opting for a subject change. 

Wade chuckled, “Oh, you know how I love a good ethereal body-gore film, but…alas, I have work.” 

“Do you ever NOT have work, Wade?  Do you ever have a night off?” she asked.

“Yes.” 

“When?”

“Oh, RECENTLY?  No.” 

“What is it you do, again?” Pietro asked. 

“I’m a trifle deaf in this ear, Sweet Cheeks.  Speak a little louder next time.” 

“Fine.  Forget it. I’ll drop it…” he threw his hands up for a second, letting them fall back on his lap. 

She turned towards him, “How about you, Piet?  Eraserhead?  Maybe Blue Velvet if we have time?” 

“I have never heard of either of those, but okay.” 

“Sweet.  My friend Alice is coming over to watch them too…hope that’s okay.” 

“Awww…you have hot friends coming over?”  Wade whined. 

“I never said she was hot.” 

“She’s hot.  Alices are always hot.” 

“Stop being piggish.”

“But whyyyyy, it’s so fun…” he said dryly.  “And the ladies HATE it.”   

“Besides, she’s taken…kind of,” she smirked. 

“Oh, wait…is THIS the friend who wants to bone her professor?” 

“He’s not her professor anymore.  But yes.” 

Pietro frowned, looking between the two of them.  “Isn’t that illegal?” 

“Yep.  That’s why I said she’s kind of taken.  They’re waiting until she graduates.” 

“Which is…”

“End of this semester. Never SEEN someone beg for an overload quite like she did...”

Wade snorted.  “I’ll BET she’s begging for an overload…If that’s not a way to motivate kids, I don’t know what is.”

Darcy chucked another pillow at him.    

“So, she’s going to…date her old…man…professor after she graduates?” Pietro asked, his face still aghast. 

“NO, god.  He’s not old.  I mean, he’s older than us, but he’s like…one of those really smart guys who graduated early?  He’s in his thirties.” 

“Oh…who is it?” 

“I can’t tell you.” 

“What does he teach?” 

“I can’t tell you.” 

“WHY?” 

“Because, they’d get in trouble.” 

“So why bring it up?”  Pietro asked, exasperated.

“I didn’t, Wade did.” 

He settled back down on the couch.  “So Jail-Bait is coming to watch this with us?” 

“Yeah, that okay?” 

He shrugged, his face unreadable, “Whatever. What’s this…uh…’Pencilneck’ about?” 

“Eraserhead,” she laughed.  “It’s…ethereal body-gore…like Wade said.” 

“I don’t know what any of that means.” 

“It’s…like a dream…and there’s disturbing things in it…like this little symbiote baby thing…you’ll just have to see it.” 

“…Okay…” 

“She’s coming over any time now…wanna order pizza?  She’ll pay for part of it.” 

“I guess, yeah.”   

* * *

“The fuck did I just watch?”  Pietro asked when the credits began to roll. 

Darcy laughed.  “After class on Tuesday, I’ll be able to tell you.” 

Alice cleared her throat.  “Ahem…it was an ethereal representation of the fear a man feels before becoming a father.” She smirked. 

“Bullshit,” Pietro blurted.  “If every man felt that way, word would get out and no children would ever be conceived.” 

“Hey, I’m just going off of what hundreds of film scholars have said…” 

“Bullshit,” he repeated, leaning over Darcy to grab another piece of pizza. 

Darcy wasn’t exactly sure if it was because he was foreign or what, but the guy had no sense of boundaries or personal space.  Maybe in Sokovia…they…touched a lot?  She’d popped her ankle one too many times during the movie and he’d hauled her feet up into his lap for a foot rub, which…while heavenly, wasn’t really something she expected from a guy she’d known for a month. 

And he had no problem laying in her lap to eat his pizza either. 

Which, whatever.  It was kind of refreshing.  He wasn’t gropey, and it wasn’t really making her uncomfortable, so…why fix what ain’t broke? 

He rolled off her lap onto the floor and hopped up to jog out to the kitchen. 

Alice gave her a look, which she chose to ignore. 

“Hey, we are out of soda…would you like me to run up to the store and get more before we start the next movie?” he called. 

“When you say run, do you mean…LITERALLY run?” she asked.    

His head popped into view, “Yeah.  It’s like a five minute walk…faster if I run.” 

“You can take my car…” Darcy offered. 

“Nah.  That’s a waste.  There’s no traffic in a grass field.” 

He had her there. 

“Okay…but don’t shake them up too much running back with them…” she warned.

“You want more of the same?  Alice? Any requests?” he asked. 

“Whatever’s fine…thanks, Pietro.”  

He grinned and grabbed his wallet from the table, heading out the back door. 

Darcy busied herself replacing the Blu-Ray disc in its case, but she could feel Alice’s gaze on her. 

She sighed and turned to face her friend.  “What?  I know you want to say something, so out with it, Red.” 

Alice shook her head before pulling her mass of red hair back in a ponytail, shrugging, “Just wanted to know when the wedding was…need to make sure I’m off work that day…” 

She rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt.  “Geez, Alice.  It’s not like that.  He’s my…housemate.  We’re just friends.  Who live together.  That’s why it’s kind of…” 

“Intimate?  Because…damn, Darcy.  I feel like I’m intruding on your couple’s time, here. He was rubbing your FEET.” She wrinkled up her nose.  “You don’t touch someone’s feet unless you have a vested interest.” 

“Yeah…I was wondering about that…but then…free foot rub.” 

“I just think you need to entertain the possibility of…” she gestured vaguely.  “Because I think he’d definitely be into it.” 

“House. Mate.  Who I’m stuck with for at least a year.  If it didn’t work out, I’d have to see him every  freaking day.” 

“And while I am happily indisposed in the romance department currently…I am not blind.  And that boy…is a work of art.” 

“Did you hear what I just said?  Bad idea.  House.  MATES.” 

“And his accent…gives me chills. The good kind.”

_Okay, I need to shift her focus NOW._

“You know who I haven’t emailed lately? My biology professor…in fact…I might just call up Old Doc and fill him in on this conversation.”   

Alice’s smile dropped immediately, “DON’T YOU DARE…He’s worried enough as it is, he doesn’t need to know that YOU KNOW about he and I…” 

“God, Alice, there’s nothing to know.  You guys talk on the phone every night, and you don’t so much as occupy the same space for longer than a few minutes.” 

“I know…but he could still lose his job, and I could get expelled and I’m not cool with either of those.” 

“Fine, fine…don’t freak out, you know I love you and I’d never do anything like that.” 

“I know…sorry…” she leaned over to hug her awkwardly.  “Besides…I think you should like…totally make out with Pietro and find out if he uses a lot of tongue or not.” 

She groaned and pushed her away.  “Ugh…” 

“’Ugh’ as in no-you-never-would, or ‘ugh’ as in, stop-talking-about-this-I-want-to-throw-my-thirsty-self-at-him?” 

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response.  And if anyone’s thirsty, it’s YOU…Miss I’m-not-getting-laid-for-at-least-three-months.” 

“Right?  So…you should totally do this for me, and describe it in minute detail.” 

“Perv.” 

“You know it,” she waggled her eyebrows.    

“Well, I honestly can’t say I haven’t thought about it.  But…” Darcy shrugged.  “I don’t know…the whole…potentially awkward situation thing is a turn off.  ESPECIALLY since the shower incident.” 

“OH RIGHT, I forgot that he peeped at you in the shower.” 

“He didn’t PEEP, he just…forgot to knock.”

“Yep.  But he saw your boobs.  And he’s still being a decent human being.  Hmm…what kind of shirt was he wearing earlier?  Was it made out of boyfriend material?” 

Darcy rolled her eyes.  “He destroyed my favorite jeans.” 

Alice snorted, “THAT was well deserved.” 

“HOW?  I didn’t vodka his pants in public! Now I have to think of a way to get back at him.  AND YOU, for walking around with me all day and not telling me that it looked like I had a bad case of Skittle farts.” 

 Alice laughed, clutching her sides, “SKITTLE FARTS!” 

“Shut up…” 

“If it makes you feel any better….I thought it was like…some kind of weird tie-dye.” 

“Only on my ass?” 

“I DON’T KNOW!  My boyfriend’s thirty-four, I don’t know anything about the young people are wearing these days.” 

“Tie Dye Butts are not a thing, at least not yet.” 

“I’m sorry, Darce.  I honestly didn’t notice anything was wrong…”

“It’s okay…I just have to figure out a way to get him back.” 

They were quiet for a few minutes.  Alice scooted into the floor to check out their DVD collection. 

“Hey…why don’t we watch Amelie instead of Blue Velvet?” 

“Because Amelie won’t get us extra credit…” 

“But…Amelie.  It’s so sweet…and Eraserhead was…not fun.”

“Fine…put it on…” 

* * *

Darcy honestly hadn’t remembered how many sex scenes were in Amelie. 

She fidgeted in her bed, unable to sleep because the events of the evening, especially those concerning Pietro, were keeping her awake. 

That idiot had honestly thrown her for a loop. 

First with the foot rub…and then…snuggling up next to her on the couch…unflinchingly watching the entire movie, including (or especially) all the sex scenes.  It was like he was being cool with JUST to fuck with her.  Mr.  'Oh-I'm-completely-fine-with-all-this-sex' sitting there calmly next to her while she was sweating like a hog and trying to still her rapidly beating heart.  

It wasn't even the content really.  

It was because he smelled good.  Under all that Axe crap he slathered on (Yes, she’d snooped at his products in the bathroom), he smelled good.  The run over to the grocery store must have made him sweat all of it off or something.  And as gross as the thought was, she preferred him au natural.

It was because his head was on her shoulder, almost on her chest…her legs slung over his lap…his arm around her waist.

And then…after the movie, they’d woken Alice up, because even though it was her stupid choice to watch Amelie, she’d fallen asleep about ten minutes in.  She had stretched and yawned and begged a soda for the drive home and had been on her way. 

She left and then... it was just Darcy and Pietro…alone. 

And he’d slumped off with a lazy smile, claiming he was tired or whatever. 

Leaving her here where she was, confused as hell, and rethinking her rule about dating her housemates. 

Because…some of that MUST have meant something, right? 

Right? 

She rolled over on her side and sighed heavily. 

On the one hand, he was a fucking Adonis. Seeing him naked might very well kill her.  And wouldn’t THAT be a way to go? 

And on the other hand, he was a fucking Adonis.  And that was as deep as it went.  And she could very well ruin what was going to be a great friendship because she couldn’t keep it in her pants. 

But…they’d fit together so well on the couch.  His head on her shoulder, arm around her waist.  It was the most comfortable she’d been in a while…they fit like puzzle pieces.

_Maybe…maybe there is something there?  Maybe it IS worth a shot._

_Maybe._

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration: 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Just because...look at that little shit. He totally just pranked Darcy. :P 
> 
> Comments would be lovely!


	4. Ice, Ice, Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pietro has a sex dream about Darcy. And then the A/C conks out. Oi. This chapter is so tropey. That's not an apology, mind you. Just a statement of fact. <3 
> 
> Pietro's POV, btw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to heyfrenchfreudiana for beta reading this for me. I did make some changes after I sent it to her, though. ;) 
> 
> There IS some Serbian dialogue in here, but I translated it right after. 
> 
> Just in case, here it is again: 
> 
> Jebem ti zivot-Fuck My Life 
> 
> Oh, and Darcy says, "PUTA", which, as most everyone probably knows, means bitch or whore in Spanish. ;) Not to worry, she's cursing an inanimate object when she says it.

 

_Her hips rolled forward, her head thrown back in a silent moan.  Her fingernails scratched his chest as he grasped her thighs, bucking up into her.  Her skin was shiny, slick with sweat. Her long brown hair was down, over her shoulders, sticking to her skin._

_“Pietro…” she rasped._

_She clenched, sending bolts of pleasure outward from where he was deeply seated inside her._

_She pushed her hair out of her face, gray eyes blown wide with want. Plump lips parted._

_“Darcy…” he whispered, gripping her tighter to still her movements before bucking up into her with more force._

_Her breasts bounced in time with his thrusting, her wet heat sliding around him perfectly._

_“I’m close…God, Piet…fuck…”_

_He watched her fall apart around him, and felt his own orgasm explode from his belly._

_And…_

The warm, wet evidence coating the inside of his pajama pants.  The empty air above him.  His hips twitching up towards nothing.

“Fuck…” he swore, staring up at the dark ceiling for a moment before turning his head to look at the clock. 

3:30 am. 

He was sweaty, his hair was sticking to his forehead.  Everything was sticky for…differing reasons.  He was going to have to get up and take a shower.  He exhaled forcefully, the air felt thick and suffocating. It was hot as fuck in his room.

“Just fuck…” he clenched his fists into the sheets before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing.

_I have not done this since high school…what the fuck is wrong with me?_

He showered, threw his clothes in the hamper and went back to bed.  It was still hot as hell, though.  He tossed and turned, kicking his blankets off in the process. 

He got up again, standing on his bed to check the air coming out of the vent. Or lack thereof, apparently.

Cursing under his breath, he made his way out into the dark hall, intending to go fiddle with the thermostat.  “Stupid fucking…air conditioning…stupid…TEXAS…Stupid—“

He nearly ran smack into Darcy, who of course, was already there.  Wearing only her panties and a tank top, swearing at the dial on the wall.

Not just panties. 

Black, satiny, gloriously small panties.  Held together by what looked like black ribbons at the hips. 

 “ _Jebem ti zivot…”_ he muttered.  _Fuck my life._

“What?” she turned abruptly to look at him.  Her hair was sweaty too, sticking to her neck and forehead, just like it was before…

_Not before.  That was a dream.  A sick dream you had about someone you share a house with._

“Just…cursing the…eh…air conditioning…” he laughed nervously. “English…was not enough.” 

“When you’re right, you’re right…Looks like the unit’s down…” she said, exasperated.  She stomped her foot, which only drew his attention to the expanse of bare skin at her hip.  “ _PUTA!”_ she directed towards the small dial on the wall.  “That DOES feel good…” she glanced over at him, raising her eyebrows. 

He shrugged.

“I guess it’s going to have to wait till morning…” she trailed off before laying out in detail what they would have to do in the morning to get the unit fixed.  Pietro wasn’t really paying attention. 

_Legs…Oh fuck, they go on for miles.  How in the fuck could someone so short have such long legs?_

“It’s like…90 degrees at night.  How the fuck are we supposed to deal with this?” she asked, turning towards him. “My makeup is gonna melt…I mean…it’s supposed to be kept at about 70-75 degrees or whatever NORMAL room temperature is…” 

_Say something.  Something…supportive?_

“You could put it in the refrigerator.” 

_That was fucking GENIUS._

She snickered, “Yeah.  Guess I could…” she turned to walk out to the kitchen.  He tried to ignore the natural sway of her hips, the curve of her ass…the place where it became her thigh.   

She opened the freezer, rummaging around for a moment and pulling out the ice cube tray.  She twisted it, popping ice cubes out and onto the floor. 

He REALLY tried to ignore her bend at the waist to pick them up. 

That was a lie, he stared openly.

She HAD to be doing that on purpose, right?

She put the tray back in the freezer and walked past him out to the living room.  She flopped down gracelessly on the couch, turning on the TV. He wanted to sit down with her, bury his head in her lap like he’d done when they were watching whatever the hell movie that was. 

Actually, what he really wanted to do was to take that ice cube and start down at her feet, dragging it across her skin and following it with his tongue, all the way up her legs. 

He shifted uncomfortably, finding his voice somehow.  “Are you staying up?”    

She sighed, “Yeah.  It’s like a fucking sauna in my room.  I can’t sleep.” 

She was rubbing the ice on her forehead, down her cheek to her neck, and onward to her collarbone. 

And he was just imagining that her nipples got harder.  Just imagining it.  It didn’t happen.  They weren’t poking against the thin fabric of her tank top.   

He swallowed, the action feeling foreign and awkward. 

She glanced up at him.  “Want some?” 

“What?” he practically choked because some part of him felt like she was propositioning him.   

“Ice?”  She held a cube out to him.

All he could think about was running it lightly over her skin, and licking up the trail it left behind.     

_I am a bad, bad person._

He reached out to take it from her.  It was melting.  Dripping down her arm. 

He stood there, awkwardly holding it. 

She rolled slightly on the couch.  Sat up on her knees facing him.  She took the ice from his hand and turned his hand over, palm up.  She rubbed the ice against his wrist.  He shivered involuntarily. 

“If you rub it on your pulse points, it cools you down…figured you’d know that, Mr. Track Star…” 

He did know that.  It was just that there wasn’t much blood getting to his brain currently.

“C’mere…” she tugged his arm until he found himself sitting beside her on the couch.  She brushed his hair out of his face, and rubbed the ice against his temple. 

He was fairly certain she knew how she was affecting him.  His breath was ragged, and he was helpless to do anything but let her rub ice down his cheek, the icy trail warming in the wake of her fingers as she traced his jawline. 

Her eyes scanned his face, flitting here and there, as if she was too nervous to rest her gaze on any one place.  The T.V illuminated her face, her hands, the length of her thigh. 

This had to be another dream.  It was way too porny not to be. 

He reached out, experimentally brushing her knee where it was pressed against his leg. 

Her lips parted slightly and her gaze stilled.  Her eyes were glued to his lips. 

_Fuck, this is real._

He reached out to brush her knee again, lingering into a full stroke. 

She huffed air out, their faces startlingly close. 

The sound of keys in the door scared both of them.  She leapt back to the other end of the couch, the ice falling down between the cushions.  He slumped down, gluing his eyes to the screen, silently cursing Wade Wilson. 

Wade shuffled off behind them, not paying them any attention at all, Pietro eyed Darcy on the other end of the couch.  He shifted slightly towards her.  Tilting his head onto his shoulder, trying to catch her gaze. 

He caught it. 

She snorted and rolled her eyes, turning back towards the TV. 

“AC’s busted,” Darcy called after Wade.  “Your room’s gonna be baking.”

Pietro sighed and slumped further into the couch.    

Wade groaned, shuffling back out to the living room and slumping into a chair.   

Darcy gasped, “What the hell happened to your face?”  She jumped up as Pietro turned to look.

His lip was swollen, bleeding.  Closer inspection revealed a black eye as well. 

“What the fuck happened?  Did you get mugged?” she asked.  “You should never fight back against muggers, Wade…” 

“It’s…no.  I didn’t get mugged.” 

“What happened?” 

“Just…had an accident at work…” he shrugged her off him.  “I’m fine…got patched up, got some Tylenol, I’ll be fine…” 

She didn’t look any more convinced than Pietro was, but if Wade didn’t want help…

“I’ll go get some ice…” Darcy walked out to the kitchen. 

“Darce, I’m fine…really…” he protested. 

Pietro got up to follow her, because he’d be damned if he was going to let what was just about to happen slide off into nothing.  They were either talking about it or continuing it.  Because they’d been dancing around this for weeks.  She was driving him crazy.    

He leaned against the counter while she wrapped a few ice cubes in a dish towel.  Her feet made sticky splat sounds on the linoleum.  The heat was almost visible, the tension was unbearable.    

She turned to look at him.  “What?” she snapped. 

He raised his eyebrows.  “Nothing.” 

_Was…it really nothing?  Am I reading too much into this?  What the fuck is going on?_

She bit her lip, turning to walk back out to the living room.  She stopped, turned slightly like she was going to say something else, but continued out of the room.  Leaving Pietro more confused than he’d been before. 

* * *

He yawned and took a sip of his coffee. The cardboard divider simply said “Pete” on it.  He’d been going to that coffee shop for the entire semester and they still couldn’t get his name right. 

_Fuck them._

_Fuck morning classes._

_Fuck mornings._

_Fuck Biology labs first thing in the morning._

“Okay, guys…you’re going to want to pick someone to do the cutting and the breaking/opening of the chest cavity…”  Dr. Banner was circling the room, his yellow button down looked like he’d slept in it. It was so wrinkled, it almost looked purposeful.  Not that Pietro was steam pressed all the time, he fucking wore basketball shorts or track pants to class every day.  But it seemed like a professor should be at least somewhat into his appearance.  

No one was volunteering at his table.  There were two girls, the blonde was looking at the pickled pig fetus like she wanted to puke, and the brunette was texting under the edge of the counter.  The guy standing beside him looked stoned. 

He groaned inwardly.  

_Fuck Dr. Banner._

Don’t fuck Dr. Banner.  He was actually an okay professor.  Given that he was obviously too smart to be teaching idiot undergraduates how to cut open pig fetuses so they could find and label the urinary tract.

Pietro sighed and picked up the scalpel. 

“Great, Mr…Maximoff?” Banner tilted his head questioningly. 

He nodded.

“Okay, you’re going to make the incision here…” he pointed with a latex gloved hand. 

Approximately 4 minutes and one disgusting sternum break later, the pig was vivi-sectioned in front of them. 

It wasn’t THAT bad, there wasn’t any blood or anything. 

The girl with the slightly green complexion was standing as far back as she could from the pig, and no one else was paying attention, so Pietro ended up sticking the labels into organs on his own while he waited for Dr. Banner to come back to check it. 

The one plus side to dissecting a fetal pig with almost no sleep under his belt was that his mind was less likely to wander back to Darcy. 

In the light of day, he still wasn’t sure about what they were doing.  She obviously didn’t want to talk about anything that had happened, so maybe it was for the best.  Maybe she was, through slightly immature behavior, being the bigger person here.  Sex was a terrible idea.  He could…somewhat objectively say that.  Even though he’d give his right foot to be in her bed for one night.  And he was a runner, so that was saying something. 

He was obviously in need of…female companionship.  That was what he needed.  A good casual fuck.  It had been a while.    

“Thanks for doing that…this whole…pig thing…it’s gross…” the sick-looking girl whispered.  She was right beside him suddenly.  She smelled heavily of something sweet.  Cotton Candy?  Bubblegum?  Something like that. 

He shrugged, smiling.  “Don’t worry about it…”

“I’m not going to need to know this anyway.  Fashion design…” she said with a wave of her hand. As if that meant something.

He nodded, not really knowing what he was supposed to say to that. 

“What’s your major?” she asked. 

_Kind of a strange question to ask someone you just met, but okay…_

“Um…I don’t know yet.  Just Gen. Ed. Right now…still figuring it out…” He had a whole year to decide.  Why rush into something?    

She nodded, her eyes raking over him, popping a piece of gum into her mouth, “Have I seen you before?  You don’t play football, do you?” 

“No…” he chuckled.  “I run?  Track?” 

“OH, right.  Track.  You got some kind of award-thingie for…throwing that big ball?” 

“Shotput?  No, it was for Javelin, but…” 

“Right…sorry…whatever…” she grinned.  She knew absolutely nothing about track.  But she was trying. And she had a pretty smile. Pretty face.  Pretty…other things. Long blonde hair.  Obviously dyed, but he wasn't judging.  Brown eyes.  Tan skin.  Really tan skin.  She probably went to a tanning salon or something.    

 _Coconuts!  She smells like coconuts. Tanning lotion probably._   

“I’m Pietro…” he held his hand out. 

“Lexie…” she took it.  “Pleased to meet ya.” 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have an inspiration photo for you...*sad face* But, I guess if you REALLY need it...have this one: 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Just try to imagine him all horny and sweaty. ;) 
> 
> Comments would be amazing! :D


	5. Parody of Yourself in Color

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These two...I swear... 
> 
> Smdh. That is all I can do. 
> 
> Chapter title is a lyric from "Here and Now" by Letters to Cleo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to heyfrenchfreudiana for beta reading this!

“Just fuck me sideways…” Darcy groaned when she tried to play back the sound bites she’d saved.  They weren’t on the right buttons. She’d press one, expecting to hear a breathy sigh, instead she got sizzling bacon.  Breathy sigh was down where raspberry should be and raspberry was no-freaking-where to be found. She was going on the air in 3 short hours and she had no fucking idea how to fix this.  She also had to get some test calls in, which would probably end up being with Alice, since they were the only ones working on this show at all. 

“What’s wrong now?” Alice asked, her voice sounded tinny in the headphones. She was in the producer’s booth, getting the phone lines synced, and the volume levels where they needed to be.  There were a couple of on-air ads Darcy had to read, as well as all the pre-recorded stuff that needed to be lined up in the right order.   Alice had kind of taken on a HUGE responsibility when she agreed to be Darcy’s producer.  She basically had to do everything short of editing the calls and giving the advice.  That was Darcy’s area. 

And at this point, Darcy wouldn’t mind trading with her. 

“Sound bites aren’t working…” she slumped in the chair.  “What the fuck am I doing? This is going to SUCK royally, Red.” 

“It’s not going to suck.  It’s going to be rough, but it’s our first show.  We’ll figure it out.”

_First show.  Fuck. Why the fuck did I choose call-in format?  Why the fuck did I choose to give LOVE ADVICE on live radio? This is going to be a disaster._

“How am I supposed to do this, Alice?  How am I supposed to give people advice on their love lives when I can’t even properly gauge when a guy has a crush on me or not?”

Pietro…God.  She couldn’t even THINK about Pietro without her face turning red and her blood pumping too quickly through her veins.  Like that little rush you get when a cop pulls you over.  Except suckier.  Because you made an idiot of yourself and you can’t stop thinking about it.    

Alice sighed, taking off her headphones and coming out into the main room with her.  “Look, if it makes you feel any better, I thought Pietro had a crush on you too.  I kind of think he still does.” 

Darcy snorted.  “He’s banged at least two chicks in the past two weeks.  If he has a crush on me, he has a fucked up way of showing it.” 

Two chicks. One more than once. Lexie/Lexus/Prius was her name?  Something like that…regardless, he was banging them. Loudly. It wasn’t at night, no one was losing sleep because of Pietro’s futon squeaking or his little…Twinkies moaning their tiny little brains out, but it was while she was at home.  Stupid fucker.  Literally.  Have some class.   

She slumped down into the floor, leaning against the desk.  Alice sat down in her chair, spinning herself back and forth with one foot.   “Maybe he had the same thoughts you were having.  Maybe he thought a relationship wasn’t a good idea while you’re living together…” her friend offered. 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” 

Alice sighed and slid down on the floor beside her, “He’s banging a bunch of chicks.  He’s not in a relationship.  Sounds to me like he needs a distraction.  A distraction from his hot roommate with the awesome rack?” she nudged her. 

Darcy bit the inside of her lip thoughtfully.  She didn’t think he thought very much about her at all, honestly.  She had been an idiot, she’d thrown herself at him.  All because he was being nice to her.  Nice.  Not flirting.  Well, probably a little flirting, but it was just his personality.  He did it with everyone.  And she had taken it the wrong way. 

She shook her head in silence. 

Alice patted her leg.  “Well, even if he does like you…he’s kind of a player.  Maybe it’s good you realized that before you got your heart broken.” 

“You’re just saying anything that will get me up off the floor, aren’t you?” 

“Precisely, Lewis.  We have a show to do.  Darcy Lewis on…SHIPLINE.” 

Darcy squinched up her nose.  “Are we dead set on that title?” 

“We put out flyers with the name.  Yeah. It’s pretty set.” 

“Shipline, though…” 

“YOU picked it!  Ship as in relationship, and line as in…phone line.  It’s cute.  It gets the point across…”

Darcy shrugged. 

Alice continued, “Well, at least it’s not ‘Dr. LOVE or something cheesy.” 

“I guess…”  There was another long pause before Darcy spoke again, unable to keep her mind on the task at hand. “I’m such an idiot.” 

“Stop it, no you’re not.”

Tears sprung to her eyes, much to her chagrin, because damn if she was going to let an idiot like Pietro Maximoff make her cry.  “I can’t tell if a guy likes me or not.  I can’t give these people who will be calling in relationship advice, and I CAN’T GET THE FUCKING SOUND BITES TO WORK!!!” 

“Whoa…sorry…bad time?” someone, a GUY, asked from the doorway. He had a deep voice.  British accent. Not familiar in the slightest.  Darcy and Alice peeked up over the desk at him. Brown hair, big eyes.  Tall.  Sort of gangly.  But in a cute way.  But at the same time, not in a Michael Cera kind of way…he had some substance to him.  Like, the wind probably wouldn’t blow him over. 

_Why the fuck do you do this, Brain? I’m barely over the last one…scratch that, I’m NOT over the last one.  Not at all._

“Can we help you?” asked Alice, using the desk to pull herself up.  Darcy made no such move.  If tall, skinny and limey wanted to talk to her, he could talk to her on the floor. 

“Um…hi…Ian…Ian Boothby?” he waved.  “You might know me as the ‘asshole who stole your idea’?” he smiled crookedly. 

_Excuse me?  What now?!_

Darcy pulled herself up off the floor. He stole something, she was standing.  When she didn’t want to.  He was in trouble now.  “Stole WHAT idea?” she spat, a little more aggressive than she meant to be.  

He raised his eyebrows, “The music revue show?  I guess you didn’t know…Uh…I overheard you telling Mr. Coulson about it…I um…I kind of used it for my TV show…I wanted to come tell you…and—“ 

“And what?  Gloat? Because your show is going to be awesome and mine’s going to suck eggs?” She wasn’t about to sit here and listen to any of that bullshit.  No matter how accurate it might be. 

“No…” he frowned.  “I wanted to offer you a creator credit…since it was your idea and all…” 

“Oh…” she trailed off.  “Oh.  Thanks…” 

She was honestly surprised.  He totally didn’t have to do that. 

“Don’t mention it…it was an excellent idea, and you deserve the credit…” he peered over at the sound board.  “I couldn’t help but hear that you are having a bit of trouble with your sound bites?” 

Darcy snorted.  She was pretty sure everyone in the building couldn’t help but hear her predicament.

Ian the Brit continued, “If you want, I can help you with them…sometimes it takes an outside pair of eyes to see a problem…” he smiled widely. “Or ears?  In this case?  Because…sound…” he clicked his tongue and shook his head, muttering under his breath. 

The corners of her mouth quirked upward on their own.  He was cute.  Awkward, but cute.      

Alice pulled her headphones back up.  “Don’t mind me…producer duties call…” she shot Darcy a grin before making her exit.  “Let me know when you want to do the practice call, Darce.” 

She attempted to smile at the guy who was still nervously swaying in and out of the room.  “Sure, I could use some help…what was your name again?” 

“Ian.  Boothby,” he said quickly, pressing his palm against his chest.   

“Darcy.  Lewis,” she mirrored his hand gesture. 

That seemed to unglue his shoes from the carpet, because he crossed the floor in a few quick strides, extending his hand, “I know…um…I…shit…that sounded…I just…I know you.  I’ve seen you…around.” 

She took his hand and shook it, a little flattered by his admission. She hadn’t really noticed him “around”, though.  But she also had been stuck halfway up Pietro’s ass for the past couple of weeks, so that didn’t mean anything.

“Guess I’m hard to miss, huh?  Was it my WINNING personality, or my rainbow ass that caught your attention?” 

He chuckled, letting go of her hand, “A little of both…” 

She felt her face growing red as a bigger smile stretched across her face. 

Fucking Pietro.  She’d at least gotten him back for that stupid prank.  Hidden all the toilet paper.  Because she was vindictive and evil.   Maybe a touch of vengeful too. Too bad she wouldn’t be in the house to see how that turned out.  Hopefully Wade would fill her in.        

Ian helped her with her sound bites, got them on the correct buttons so she could use them to both censor calls and as reactions to things that were said. 

“So you’re editing calls during the actual show?” he asked.  “You’re brave.” 

“It’s the only way I could get approval for this kind of show.  Can’t just have people calling in to talk about love and relationships uncensored.” 

He snickered at the implications.   “Well…it looks like you’re all fixed up…” He got up from her chair, walking around her desk, lingering for a moment.  “Want me to call in for practice?”  

Alice HAD been going to do the practice calls, but it might do her well to switch it up. 

“Sure…just like…come up with a relationship problem and I’ll try to solve it, or at least put you in touch with someone who could.  Throw some expletives in so I can practice censoring.”

He smirked and stood, walking out into the lobby to call in.    

“Hey Red…Ian’s going to help you with the practice calls, okay?” 

“The more the merrier!” her friend replied, giving her a thumbs up from the producer’s control room. 

The phone rang, and Alice picked it up, saying a couple things before switching to Darcy. 

“Darcy, we have Ian on the line…” Alice said, her radio voice was scarily level. “He’s got a question about a crush.”    

“Hi there…” she purred, surprised at the sultry tone her voice had taken. It sounded pretty good, though, so she went with it.  “You’ve reached Darcy here on the Shipline…” she glanced in at Alice, who gave her a thumbs up.  “What’s your problem, caller?” 

“Hi, uh…my name’s Ian…but you already know that…um…my problem is…I’m trying to ask out this girl…she’s really cute, and I just got to talk to her today…really talk to her…and I helped her out with some problems she has…technical problems.  And I want to ask her out, but I don’t want her to think she owes me anything for the help…” he paused before continuing, “Fuck. Shit. Piss. Cock…for your censoring practice…” 

Darcy muted herself to laugh, her face growing hot because she was kind of in shock at how fucking CUTE this guy was all of the sudden.  Did she want to go out with him?  Possibly.  It couldn’t hurt.  One date.  She hadn’t been out with a guy in so long…and the thing with Pietro obviously wasn’t going anywhere…why the hell not? 

“Well, Ian…I think that, if you just explained to this girl that you want to go out, and maybe make it casual and simple so she doesn’t feel any obligation towards you…maybe that might work.” 

“So, if I were to ask her…to come out with me for milkshakes after she gets off the air?  Do you think she’d be up for that?” 

_Milkshakes?  Oh my god.  Kill me.  So cute._

“I think she would,” Darcy grinned. 

“Cool...cool…thanks Darcy.  You really helped a lot.” 

“You’re welcome, Ian.  Glad I could help.”  

She felt warm all over.

He and Alice alternated calls to give her a little more practice before the show went live. 

She was working hard at editing them quickly when he tapped the desk.  “I’ll see you later tonight?” he asked with a smile. 

She nodded, “Definitely. Milkshakes.  You promised.” 

He chuckled, “Yeah, I did.  I’ll see you at midnight, then?” 

“Yep…” she put her headphones back on and went back to editing, feeling lighter and a lot more confident.  She could totally do this.  She was gonna kick this radio show’s ass.  Or…nail it…or something like that. 

* * *

She shut the door to her car, feeling a little bit buzzed from the post-show adrenaline and from the triple fudge chocolate chip milkshake she’d gotten with Ian. 

Ian was sweet.  Just…so sweet.  He hung on her every word, reveled with her at the high turnout of calls they’d gotten, having to postpone some for the following week, which was amazing in and of itself, especially for a first night. 

And, she’d kissed him on the cheek when she left.  Nothing definitive.  And he was fine with that.  And so was she. 

She felt happy, she was smiling for the first time in a couple of days, it felt like.  And she no longer felt ill equipped to handle this Pietro situation.  She had misinterpreted his behavior.  A cultural faux pas, if you will.  Not a huge deal.  They were still friends. 

She unlocked the door and was startled to see the man in question laying on the couch watching television.  A quick glance at her watch told her it was after 2 am.  It was strange to see him up this late. 

“What are you doing up this late slash early?” she asked, hanging her keys on the hook by the door and locking it behind her. 

He turned, his arm dangling lazily off the side of the couch, brushing the floor.  “I was waiting up for you…I listened to the show and I wanted to congratulate you…” he smiled as he pulled himself up to a sitting position.  “I kind of thought you’d be home earlier, though…” he rubbed at his eyes and squinted at the clock. 

“Oh…you didn’t…listen to the whole show did you?” 

“Of course,” he smiled sleepily.  “You sounded great.  You really helped all those whiny girls with their problems…I like your radio voice.  It’s sexy.” 

_Fucking hell…_

She laughed nervously.  “I guess…it’s easier on the ears than my normal one…” 

“Your voice is ALWAYS easy on my ears.” 

_Fuck you, Pietro. What are you doing?_

“Well…I was GOING to come right home, but…”  

_Do it.  Do it.  Go for the THROAT, Lewis.  Tell him you were on a date.  Tell him a hot British guy asked you out.  Just DO IT. Twist the knife on the way out and tell him you kissed him goodnight._

“But Alice and I decided to go out and celebrate,” she smiled widely. 

_Alice went home to call Dr. Boyfriend. Darcy, you fucking coward, why are you lying?_

“Oh.  That’s understandable…” he got up to stretch.  “I hope you don’t mind if I head off to bed now…probably going to skip my run tomorrow.  It’s Saturday anyway…”

 _Oh god…and he’s cancelling his run because of me?  Why?  Why, Universe, why?_   _Why this, after I fucking made my peace with it and started to move on?_

“Have a good night…” she said, feeling guilty as SIN for some reason.  She didn’t owe him anything.  He was dating other women.  Why was she feeling so guilty about a fucking milkshake?

He pulled her into a hug, “I’m proud of you, Darcy.” 

“Thanks, Piet…” she hugged him back, feeling terrible because she liked how his arms felt around her. Liked the way he smelled.  Ian smelled good too.  Fuck, she was in trouble.   

He half stumbled over to the door of his room, flashing her a sleepy grin before disappearing inside. 

_I guess, if I were a guy, this would be where I’d go in my room, lock the door and angrily jerk off._

She turned off the TV and went straight to her room, feeling a heady mix of confusion, guilt and exhilaration.  In short, her emotions were fucked. 

She sighed, “Fuck me sideways…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration: Sleepy Pietro: 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Comments would be lovely!


	6. Empty When You're Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pietro is bad at breaking up. Really bad. 
> 
> And Darcy kind of needs to make up her mind. 
> 
> These two...*shakes fist*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to heyfrenchfreudiana for beta reading both versions of this update. Both the first horrible version, and this, slightly better version.
> 
> Chapter title comes from "Cheerleader" by OMI. I get Piet/Darcy feels with that song. <3

“Hey Pietro…did you get my text?” Lexie’s voice grated on his close-to-snapping nerves.

He groaned inwardly.  He’d been dreading this conversation.  Mostly because he thought they’d already had it. A week ago.  He had been fairly blunt when he’d last spoken to her. 

_“I just don’t really think we have a lot in common…this…isn’t working…” he nodded definitively.  “Do you…understand, Lexie?”_

_“Yeah, I get it…”_

He’d been pretty concise, he thought.  Which was why the text she’d sent him yesterday had come as such a surprise. 

_“Hey, so what do you want to do this weekend?  ;) :D xoxo”_

He hadn’t answered.  Because…what was he going to say?  _Oh, I’m crushing pretty hard on my house mate.  She’s better than you in every way, so…I think I’ll just sit around and moon after her this weekend._ Just…fuck, this was so awkward.  It had been SUCH a bad idea to start a casual relationship with a girl he had class with. And would therefore, SEE again.  Multiple times a week.

Not to mention all the times she just…”ran” into him.  Outside all the rest of his classes.  On the track, when he ran in the mornings with a couple other guys.  She was there.  Waving at him and acting surprised to see him.  

So, really…it had been more than the couple of “dates” they’d been on.  On her part, at least.  He was seeing that now.  It probably didn’t help that he’d slept with her.  But…he was fixing that.  Stopping this before it got out of control. 

He’d somehow eluded her during lab, pretending to be VERY enthralled with the plant cell slides they were looking at.  He’d engaged Dr. Banner in so much conversation that he was certain the man probably thought he was flirting with him, because NO ONE was THAT interested in the reproductive cycle of day lilies.  No one.  Not even the day lilies.

But anything was more pleasant than the talk he was about to have with her.    

He turned to face her.  When he really looked at her, he was hard-pressed to remember what he’d found attractive to begin with.  She WAS attractive, obviously.  But…there was something about her eyes.  He suddenly understood what Wade had meant by “Chick has crazy eyes, Piet.” 

Because she did. 

_Is she even blinking? I have to choose my words VERY carefully…_

“I DID see your text...and…I don’t think you…had a FULL grasp on what I was trying to say the other day…” 

“Well, I—“ she began, but he interrupted.

“Well…let me just clarify, when I said it wasn’t working…I meant it’s not GOING to work, so I’m ending this.”  

“What? I don’t understand…” 

“We’re…done…I’m…dumping you?  Breaking up with you?” He wasn’t really sure on the terminology, but he hoped he was getting the point across.        

Her mouth remained open for a few seconds until she thought to close it.  She false-started a reply a few times, only to shake her head and make a noise that sounded part-laugh/part-cry. 

“Are you SERIOUS?” she asked finally.  Her eyes looked wet. 

_WHY is she crying?  Not good…people are looking…this is not good…_

“Yes.” 

She covered her face with her hands, exhaling loudly and bending at the waist.  He wasn’t really sure what she was doing until she came back up, fanning rapidly at her eyes.  “Is this…” she inhaled deeply (and loudly), “Is this about…” she lowered her voice to a harsh whisper, “that THING?” 

He frowned, “What thing?” 

“That…THING…that I didn’t want…to do…???” 

“What?  NO!  NO, no…no…this is NOT about that…I just…I don’t like you.” 

_Great job. Concise.  Clear.  Heartless, but necessary._ He was starting to wish he hadn’t done this in a public place.  While most of their classmates had gone before they’d spoken to each other, a few were still here. 

“Is there someone else?” she asked bluntly, her eyes and nose red. 

His mouth hung open for a few seconds because…fuck it, there was. 

“That…is neither here nor there,” he said firmly. 

“Oh…I think it’s plenty here.  And there.  It is both here and there.”

She was stubborn, he’d give her that.  Even though he really didn’t understand how this was helping her case.  What, did she think she could argue her way back into a relationship with him?  Like his feelings about her didn’t even come into play at all?   

“It doesn’t matter whether I have something here, or something there…what matters is…you will not be here...and you will not be there.”     

“Oh…” she nodded knowingly.  “I KNOW what this is.”

_Oh really?  I’ve been telling you for the past five minutes.  Want a ribbon or something?_   

“You know that this is me breaking up with you? Because that’s what this is,” he snapped. 

“No.  This…THIS is your CLEAR refusal to commit to a serious relationship with me.”

“Yes.  Exactly. That’s why I’m breaking up with you.” 

“Oh no.  YOU’LL be back.”

“No…I won’t,” he insisted.

“You WILL be,” she hissed and stalked from the room, bumping his shoulder on the way out. 

He sighed and picked up his stuff, trying not to meet the glares of any of his classmates.  Yes, he was an asshole.  But he would have been more of an asshole for continuing to date someone he wasn’t really interested in.  Right?  And besides, she was trying to manipulate him into staying.  He didn’t want to be with her.  Not exactly the recipe for a healthy relationship. 

He left the room, praying that his next class wasn’t as difficult as this one had been.    

* * *

He opened the door to the (thankfully) air-conditioned house and was surprised by the people in the living room.  Well…Darcy and Wade lived here. And Alice practically lived here. It was the…other person who was causing him some confusion. 

He—the other person--was sitting on the couch between Darcy and Alice, with Wade draped over the arm chair like always. 

“Hey there, Beautiful, come give Daddy some sugar…” Wade puckered his lips. 

“Hey Wade…” Pietro said absently on his way out to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.  He drank half and meandered back out to the living room, trying to figure out who this guy was…

Realization dawned on him.  _Of course…it’s Alice’s professor boyfriend.  Darcy wasn’t kidding, he does look young…_

Wade hopped up, making his way into the kitchen and almost running into Pietro on his way. 

Pietro followed him to the kitchen, intending to ask the details on Alice’s boyfriend. He watched him pull the milk out of the fridge.      

“So…that is the…uh…boyfriend?” he asked, gesturing towards the living room. 

“Hmm?  Oh him?  No, no…he’s not really my type, I like a little more meat—oh, you weren’t talking about me…” Wade shrugged comically, “see, I thought since you were talking TO me, you were talking ABOUT me…I was mistaken.  This is obviously gossip time…” he hopped up on the counter and took a swig from the milk carton.

Pietro frowned, “Wade…don’t be disgusting…” 

Wade raised his eyebrows, “You think my sexuality is DISGUSTING? First of all, Thank you, second of all, I had no idea I was living with such a Right Wing piece of garbage—” 

“I meant the milk…” he said slowly, “Fuck whoever you want, I could not care less…just don’t CHUG the communal milk carton.” 

“Oh…” Wade looked down at the container in his hand.  “Communal milk carton?  I believe this is the communal WADE carton…the Wade Milk Carton…Wade’s communal carton of milky Wade…” he trailed off.

Pietro stared blankly as he waited for Wade to finish speaking. “Are you through?”   

“Yeah…word’s lost all meaning…it’s mine.  That’s the point I’m trying to get across here…” he extended his hand and Pietro read the altered label, in Wade’s handwriting, no doubt.  In large capital letters, _Property of WADE.  WADE’S Milk.  WADE’S cow juice.  NOT YOURS, PIETRO._ (Yes, it said that). _Darcy can have SOME._

Pietro rolled his eyes, deciding to switch focus back to the topic of interest.  “Soo…that’s the professor Alice is going to get fired?  He looks very…young…for a professor,” he glanced back out to the living room. 

“What?” Wade frowned and took another swig of milk.  “No…no…that’s not…” he laughed.  “NO, God, no, that’s not Alice’s boyfriend…Alice likes her Prime Rib more on the AGED side.  Not that Dr. Banner is—“he stopped abruptly, clapping his hand over his mouth.

Pietro turned slowly to face him.   

“So there’s NO chance you didn’t hear that…is there?”

Pietro couldn’t really find the words to ask all the questions he wanted to ask.    

Alice chose that precise moment to waltz into the kitchen to raid their fridge and paused when she realized neither Wade nor Pietro were moving or speaking, just staring at each other. “…What’s going on here?” she asked warily. 

Wade, glancing down at the milk in his hand and back to Alice, answered quickly, “That’s RIGHT, Pietro…our milk comes from cows here.” He waggled the carton in front of him, “NOT from yaks.  We just don’t have enough yaks to justify milking them.” 

Pietro looked between Wade and Alice, nodding his head.  “OH…okay, I understand now…is just…strange…” he nodded, pressing his lips together and trying to imagine his stuffy biology professor having ANYTHING in common with the girl in his kitchen…he was at a loss, though.

Alice nodded slowly, pursing her lips, “Alright…that…sounds fake…but…okay…” she ducked back out into the living room. 

Pietro walked over to the fridge, opening it and leaning inside, still trying to wrap his mind around the idea of Alice and…Dr. Banner, when another thought occurred to him.  _Wade said that guy was the boyfriend.  If he’s not Alice’s and apparently, not Wade’s…_ he stood up, banging his head on the top of the fridge on his way up. 

“Wait…so…he’s…” he lowered his voice to almost a whisper, “Darcy’s boyfriend?” 

Wade nodded, as if Pietro should have known this all along.  “Yeah. Ian’s with Darce. In Darce. On Darce.  All matter of Darce…Ian’s there.” 

Pietro bit down on his lip and rubbed the back of his head.  He kind of felt like he’d been gutted.  Which…he had no right to feel, because Darcy…was allowed to date people. He had no say in this…HE had been dating people.

Even Wade was…possibly dating people.  And if that squirrel tail he’d found stuffed down the couch was any indication, Wade was a LOT less inhibited in his “dating” than anyone else Pietro had ever known.  (Darcy had used the word _Furry_ when he’d shown it to her.  She’d explained what it was and they stuffed the tail back into the couch and had run for a can of Lysol disinfectant.) 

God…even thinking about her made his stomach tie up in knots…he couldn’t think about her with that guy in the other room. That tall skinny guy who…wasn’t him.  He was going to get to hold her and kiss her and do all the things Pietro wanted to do with her and—and…honestly, he didn’t know why he was surprised.  He should have seen this coming.  Just because he was an asshole and couldn’t see the trees for the forest didn’t mean that she had to remain celibate while he got his shit together. 

But he still felt…angry?  And horny? _Again? Really?_   And…lots of things he wasn’t ready to deal with yet. 

“Yo, Pietro…”  Wade was waving his hands in front of his face rapidly.  “There’s another carton of milk in the fridge.  No need to pout about it.” 

_I wish I had hit my head a little harder…_

“Yeah…yeah…I’m fine…” he said absently.    

“Well…you’re boring, so I’m gonna leave.  You can come out here if you’d like.  But please don’t…” Wade chucked the now empty carton into the trash and left the kitchen.  

Pietro sighed. He was being stupid.  He needed to suck it up and go meet the guy.  He might be a really nice guy. Fat chance of that.  He was probably less deserving of Darcy than Pietro was.  He followed Wade out into the living room.  “Ian” was standing, getting ready to go. 

“Oh, hey, this is my other housemate, Pietro…” Darcy said when he entered the room.  His face grew warm when she smiled at him. “Piet, this is Ian…” 

Ian extended his hand, smiling as he shook Pietro’s hand.  Ian’s hands were cool and clammy.  Like shaking hands with a fish.  Gross. 

Pietro tried to smile, but all he could manage was a smirk.  “Nice to meet you, Ian.” 

“Boothby…” he said. “Nice to meet you, Piet.  Can I call you that? Darcy speaks often of you…”

_British?  He’s British.  Of course he’s British.  Darcy wouldn’t have found him attractive without that accent.  Would she find me attractive without my accent?  Does she find me attractive WITH it?  Stop it.  Stop._

“Good things, I hope?” he laughed dryly, stuffing his hands in his pockets because he didn’t know what else to do with them. 

“Usually…” Ian looked over at Darcy and laughed. 

_Okay…I do not like THAT…I do not like the little “eye conversations”._

He must have been staring at them or something, because Ian started backtracking immediately.  “Oh, Darcy’s just been filling me in on the prank war you two have going on…and how she got you last with the…uh…toilet paper thing?” 

Pietro smirked, “Ah yes.  VERY funny…HILARIOUS.”  He glanced briefly in Darcy’s direction, shooting her what he hoped was a smoldering gaze.  “I suppose that means the ball’s in my court now, eh?”  His grin broadened.  “I guess I’ll have to come up with something that tops…toilet paper…or lack thereof…” 

“Well, it was nice to meet you…both of you…” he glanced over at the arm chair to include Wade.  “We really should do this again sometime…maybe go out or something?  All of us?” 

Everyone else seemed to agree, but Pietro simply maintained his cocky stance, flexing his chest a little, (mostly) subconsciously. 

“Right, well…cheers, then?” Ian leaned over to kiss Darcy on the lips before showing himself out.

Pietro clenched his fists in spite of himself when he kissed her.  He wasn’t really a fan of this side of himself.  This…jealous, needy side.  His behavior was no better than Lexie’s…jealous and angry over someone who clearly didn’t want him. 

But when Ian’s lips touched hers, her eyes flicked immediately over to Pietro’s. Whether she was checking to see if he saw, or checked to see what he thought…. it was something.  Maybe he wasn’t crazy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration, because he looks so sad and lost: 
> 
>  
> 
> We'll get to see Pietro's next prank in ch 7, as well as more of Lexie, because you KNOW she's not gone for good. 
> 
> A minor note, I won't be updating this for at least two weeks, because I have finals and a term paper coming up, so I'm going to be SUPER busy for a while. 
> 
> Comments are lovely! xoxo
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://dresupi.tumblr.com)


	7. These Two Sides of My Brain Need to Have a Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda's here now. Maybe she can help. Or something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack. I'm terrible. I know. I promised two weeks. I'm so terrible. Please don't hate me. I've been having a terrible writer's block since finals. This is the first thing I've churned out that's been readable besides drabbles I posted on tumblr. Hopefully, my muses got their groove back and things will be a lot more regular, update-wise, from here on out. 
> 
> Also, first time for this fic having two different POVs in one chapter! Yay me! Idk, just felt like it needed both Darcy and Pietro. I guess I missed them? *shrugs*
> 
> Unbetaed. All the mistakes are mine.

Darcy hummed to herself as she checked the bathroom one more time before leaving it.  Apart from the mirror being foggy, it at least looked like it had when she’d come in.  Neither she nor Pietro were particularly tidy people.  Her make-up and various hair products took over three-quarters of the double vanity. He left hair in the sink whenever he shaved, and toothpaste blobs.  Towels usually ended up damp on the floor rather than on the rack. 

She had been planning on tidying up a little more, since Pietro’s sister was going to be staying here while Darcy was at home for the next two weeks.  But, she figured that the poor girl had lived with Pietro for pretty much her whole life, so she knew how messy he was.  Darcy had cleaned her room, even vacuumed under the bed and everything.  So, she figured Pietro could handle the damn bathroom. 

She crossed the room and unhooked the hook and eye from his door so he could come in now if he wanted.  Those little additions, the hook and eyes, had shown up the week following the “boob incident”. He probably wasn’t even here, likely out for a run even though his sister was supposed to be here anytime.  Leave it to him to make absolutely everything as awkward as possible.

She dropped the towel once she was in her room, picking up her phone from her dresser, she groaned when she saw the missed call from Ian.  He called every morning when he woke up.  And every night to say good night.  She kind of felt like a bitch for being annoyed.  But it wasn’t JUST the constant checking in.  It was that obnoxiously bright way he had of correcting every fucking thing she said. 

 _“Didn’t you mean “couldn’t care less”?  If you COULD care less, you at least care a little.”_  

_“I don’t know.  CAN you run to the restroom?  I’d say probably so.”_

_“Weellll see, that’s not what you asked.  What you ASKED was if I could grab a COUPLE of ketchups for you.  I did grab two.  Next time, if you want more, ask for however many you want.  If you wanted four, you should have asked for four.”_

She grimaced at the thought, placing her phone back on her dresser without responding. 

She was kind of hoping that the time apart would do them some good. They were seeing an awful lot of each other, what with all the work study stuff they were doing currently.  She told herself it was most likely the stress from finals, coupled with the demands of hosting and writing a radio show.  Not to mention all the problems she’d been having with her show.

Honestly.  Mention a little thing like masturbation and healthy sexual fantasy and suddenly, your show isn’t appropriate for college radio.  She hadn’t said any of the words not allowed on radio broadcast. Nothing that the station could get fined over.  She wasn’t describing anything in vivid detail. 

Apparently self-exploration was a no-no. Just not something you can talk about. Fucking Texas.  Fucking Southern morals.

Whatever…she wasn’t bitter.  Just really stressed. And it looked like it was affecting her relationship. It was probably stress on both parts.  Ian wasn’t a bad guy.  Just really annoying as of late. 

Two weeks apart, stress-free, away from college…it was just what they needed.  A factory reset. Full system restore. 

She opened the top drawer of her dresser and pulled out some underwear.  The drawer was getting a bit crowded, with all the rolls of toilet paper she’d stuffed inside.  She could start putting it under the bed, she supposed.  But her underwear drawer was the one place she thought Pietro might not look for it. Not that he made a habit out of coming into her room or anything.  But it never hurt to be thorough.

She’d kind of been expecting some sort of retaliation for her little toilet paper prank, but there had been none.  Not even when she’d continued to hide every single roll of toilet paper, even the brand new package he bought and left on the shelf in the bathroom.  She’d definitely more wary than normal, expecting a jump scare around every corner. _‘More way’ can be loosely defined as ‘paranoid’, can’t it?_   It hadn’t made for a fun finals week. But, she’d done fine, if ending it a little more tired than she normally was. 

She really was just READY for him to prank her and get it over with.  That would remove a large chunk of anticipation from her life.  Anticipation/dread.  Because she just had the one final radio show tonight and then she would be free to go home and visit her family.  She missed her parents and was kind of hoping for some monetary Christmas gifts.  And her entire holiday would be a lot more enjoyable if the threat of a Pietro prank wasn’t looming over her head. 

But, as it was, she just had to make it one more day.  One more day of obnoxious/stressed out boyfriend.  One more day of conniving roommate. Then said boyfriend would be on a plane across the pond to be with his family for two weeks. And said conniving roommate would be staying here and she’d be safe from his certain retaliation until Wade’s New Year’s Eve party. It would be her mom’s Christmas cookies and football with her dad…ham on Christmas day and a carload of groceries and new stuff to bring back here. And hopefully a tray full of jello shots to numb the embarrassment of whatever Piet had in store for her.   

Once she’d dressed, Darcy poked her head out of her bedroom, peeking around the corner into the living room. 

Nothing. 

She opened the door, which creaked as loudly as it possibly could.  Alerting anyone who was awake that she was up.  If Pietro was home, he knew she was in the living room now. 

 _Fuck…_ she looked around rapidly.  The floorboards behind her creaked and she jumped in the air, ready to tackle whatever prank Pietro had put together.  Scary mask in a dark corner? Karate chop to the face.  Saran wrap in the doorway?  Duck and run.

But, it wasn’t Pietro in a mask OR misused food storage products.  It WAS a person, though.  A girl.  Brown hair, dark eyeliner, tons of rings on a hand gripping a cup of coffee.

Darcy stilled, staring her down, getting a definite sister vibe from her.  She wasn’t Pietro’s usual type…i.e., short, blonde and brainless.  She was tall, taller than Darcy at any rate.  She had long dark hair and the way she was looking at her…amused, with a smirk that reminded her suspiciously of…

“Wanda?” Darcy ventured. 

The smirk broadened into a smile that definitely reminded her of Pietro.

“You must be Darcy…” her accent confirmed it. Wanda extended her free hand, just as covered in rings as the other.  Chipped black nail polish adorned her obviously chewed-on-nails, and Darcy took her proffered hand with a grin. 

“Yep, that’s me.  Sorry for the…” she gestured vaguely.  “Weirdness.” 

Wanda shrugged. “It does not bother me…I am usually the one accused of…the weirdness…” she looked down at the cup in her hand.  “There is…coffee in the kitchen? I hope you don’t mind that I used some of yours…I don’t think Pietro drinks it?” 

Darcy shook her head absently, looking around Wanda’s shoulder to the kitchen. 

“Is Pietro out there?” 

She looked confused for a second, “No.  He’s…running?” 

“Right…right…” Darcy nodded absently.  “I knew that…Listen.  Can you tell me…what has he done this morning?  Anything…suspicious?  Like he’s…planning something, preparing for something?”  Wanda again looked confused, so she elaborated.  “Look…I’m sure you know, I’m sure he’s told you that we’re in the middle of a prank war.  The ball’s in his court, and I’m waiting on the other shoe to drop, and I totally understand if you can’t tell me what he’s planning, but just…like…blink fast a few times if you SAW him prepping the prank or something…PLEASE?” 

“I am…not sure I know what you are talking about…” Wanda said slowly. 

“Prank war.  Like…someone plays a prank and the other person—“ 

“I KNOW what a prank war is.  I just…was not aware that you and my brother were participating in one.  How did that happen?”  she laughed. 

“Well…it all started after he saw me naked…walked in on me in the shower the first night I moved in, made the mistake of talking about it the next morning, our other roommate heard…Wade?  Have you met Wade yet?”  Wanda shook her head, so Darcy continued, “You will…anywho…Wade was all ‘you should just show her your penis and that’ll make it even’…and I think I may have…ASKED to see his penis?  Maybe?  I don’t even know.  And THEN he was like…teasing me or something and he took off his shirt and threw it at me, said we were even?  Like, ha!  Not even close, Bud.  So I sprayed him with Wade’s water gun, ‘cept it wasn’t filled with water, it was filled with vodka…so he declared war…and stuck bath beads in my back pockets so I sat on them and they burst?  So I hid the toilet paper, and here we are.  He’s using Taco Bell napkins and I’ve hidden all the TP in my underwear drawer…”  She took a deep breath at the end of it. 

She turned to look at Wanda again and realized that she’d probably just spilled her guts to someone who was asking a rhetorical question, but oh well.  “Wow…” Wanda exclaimed dryly, “I have to hand it to you…the toilet paper thing…that is good. I can’t believe I never thought of that…why wouldn’t he just buy his own?”

“He does.  I just…steal that too.  And leave the napkins…” she grinned sheepishly. 

“You know…I think I’m going to like you…” Wanda said plainly.    

“Same…” Darcy smirked for a brief second before darting her way out to the kitchen.  She needed to eat something, but was scared of what Pietro might have done to her food.  She opened the fridge cautiously, pulling out a yogurt because it was sealed and untampered with and there was no way he could have done anything to it. 

She took a spoon and rinsed it off, thought better of it and full on washed it before dipping it into her yogurt.  You never could be too careful.  She’d just bought a new toothbrush that she now kept in her room instead of in the bathroom.  In case Pietro went full fifth grade and tried to put food coloring in the bristles.  Not that blue or green teeth would necessary jeopardize her radio career, but anyone who saw her would get a good laugh.   Not to mention Alice.

She wasn’t sure what he could do to the spoons, but…better safe than sorry. 

She dropped the spoon back in the sink when she was finished, stuffing the yogurt cup into the full trashcan, not really wanting to be the person who had to take the trash out.  She could usually time it where Piet or Wade had to do it, and neither had caught on yet. 

She sighed.  She now had approximately…eight hours to kill before she could plausibly go up to the college to prepare for the show.  She didn’t want to really…go anywhere…but if Pietro had the place booby-trapped, she didn’t want to stay here either.   

She reached for her phone, opting to see if Alice wanted to hang out.  She was moving this weekend, maybe she needed some help packing.

* * *

“What time is it?” he asked, before looking at his watch himself.  Just a few minutes until Darcy’s show started.  The show that came on before hers was some kind of top 40 countdown type of thing.  He was becoming annoyed with the DJ’s voice.  Darcy’s was so much nicer sounding.  Soothing.  Calming.  And in no way obnoxious. 

Wanda sat down beside him on the couch, an amused expression on her face.

He reminded himself not to react.  Not to show in any way that he’d noticed. 

“What?” he spat. 

Or he could do the exact opposite. 

His sister shook her head, that infuriating look still etched on her face.  Shrugging, she replied, “Nothing…I was just…wondering something…a trivial thing, really…” 

He pressed his lips together.  She was trying to wheedle information out of him and he wasn’t going to fall for it this time. 

“What are you wondering?” he asked with a sigh.    

 _Wow,_ he thought dryly, _You’re on a roll tonight, Pietro._

“Just wondering how long you’ve been in love with Darcy…” she smirked. 

He snorted.  “I am not in love with her.” 

Wanda rolled her eyes. “Okay.  Infatuated with her?  Attracted to her?  Affectionately predisposed to her?”

“Nope,” he lied.  It really wasn’t any of Wanda’s business.

“You saw her naked.” 

“I’ve seen lots of women naked.  Not in love with any of them…and how the fuck did you know about that?”

“I have my ways.” 

Yes, she did. He knew all too well about her ‘ways’.  She was so fucking trustworthy and calming that she could have Putin spilling military secrets over a cup of hot cocoa. Pietro even KNEW about her ‘ways’ and they STILL worked on him. 

“You’re having a prank war with her…” she stated.  As if that proved something. 

“I suppose?”

“Pulling the old…’not-actually-pulling-a-prank-and-letting-the-other-person-get-completely-paranoid-with-worry-prank’?” 

He snickered, “How’d you guess?” 

“She was acting weird.  Jumpy.  Handwashing her spoon.” 

He laughed, “Good.  Serves her right for stealing the toilet paper.” 

“You’re in love with her,” she repeated.  “I’d say you’re in lust with her, but I think it might actually be more than that…”      

“Oh good grief, it is a crush!” he admitted. “Ever had one?” He crossed his arms indignantly. 

“Plenty. Tenth grade was difficult.” 

He scoffed incoherently. 

Wanda continued, “I only ask because…you are LISTENING to the radio.”  Again with the things that had nothing to do with anything.  Like listing all of his actions for the day would somehow show that he was in love with Darcy.  _“You ate breakfast, Pietro!”  “You showered, took care of basic hygiene…you put on clean SOCKS, Pietro…”_  

“Pfft.  That doesn’t mean anything.  If every man who listened to the radio was in love with the DJ, radio wouldn’t be a dying industry.” 

“Pietro, you NEVER listen to the radio.” 

“Of course I do. I listen to it all the time.”

“You do not,” she countered. 

“I do too.  In the car.” 

“No you don’t! You bitched and complained about having to install a tape deck in the car you currently own just so you would be able to run an adaptor to your phone.  You don’t even like putting your playlists on SHUFFLE, let alone listen to someone else’s music choices.” 

“Whatever, Wanda.  That just shows me how little you actually know about me, your own brother…” he sniffed.  “You shared a womb with me, but you do not know me…” 

She jeered, “Unless you became a talk radio connoisseur in the twelve minutes between your birth and mine, you are full of shit.” 

“I did accomplish an awful lot before you came out and I had to look after you…” he teased. 

“Bah.  You ARE full of shit…” 

They were silent for a few moments, until he heard the beginning theme of Darcy’s show.  He felt his stomach turn flips, he was always so nervous for her.  Even though he didn’t really have to be, Darcy was pretty good at what she did.  Which was relationship and sex advice.  _Oh boy…Wanda’s going to have a field day if she starts talking about the finer qualities of masturbation again._

He had to admit, that was a pretty good segment.  And may or may not have aided him in his own solo endeavors.  She’d kind of…alluded to a recurring fantasy she’d been having…and maybe he was nuts, but it sounded like she was talking about him.  Not that she’d gone into specifics or anything.  Just… a feeling he got. She hadn’t been explicit at all.  He didn’t really understand why she’d gotten in trouble for it.  It was all very informative.

“Does she mention you on the show?” asked Wanda suddenly. 

_What the fuck, does she READ minds?_

He frowned, “No, why?” 

“Just trying to figure out why you’re listening…if…you know.” 

“I am SUPPORTING my roommate.  Wade listens too.  To the archived copy online, but he listens.” 

“Okay…” she smirked.

“Okay…” he mimicked.  “I really don’t understand why it’s a big deal.” 

“It’s a big deal, Pietro, because you have NEVER put this much effort into a relationship before.” 

“Darcy and I are NOT in a relationship.” 

“You are so.  You’re roommates, aren’t you?” 

“Housemates…but—“ 

“Housemates who are ‘crushing’ on each other, no?” 

“I can’t speak for her.” 

“I can. She asked to see your penis. That’s a pretty big indicator.” 

He shook his head.  “That was not…that’s not…she wasn’t serious.”  He sat back on the sofa, crossing his arms in front of him and trying to concentrate on Darcy’s show instead of thinking about her asking to see what was in his pants.  Or showing her what was in his pants.  Not the thoughts he wanted to be having in front of his twin sister.

“So you’re both attracted to one another…” Wanda mused, “but you are not together…why is that?” 

“She’s dating someone else,” he said flatly.  A pasty-faced know-it-all with a penchant for old movies. 

“Why would she date someone else and ask to see YOUR penis?  Is his penis not adequate?” 

“That was…that was before she started dating him.  Could you please stifle yourself?  I’m trying to listen…” 

“Oh, okay.  I see now.”    

_Do not take the bait.  Do not take the bait._

“See what?  What do you see, Wanda?” 

_Dammit, me._

“YOU fucked it up somehow.” 

He sputtered for a few seconds, shaking his head. There wasn’t any way she could POSSIBLY know that. “That is neither here nor there…” 

She nodded once, seemingly pleased with herself.  “You fucked up.  Probably fucked someone.  And that is why she’s not with you.” 

He sighed, “Why are you like this?  Do you delight in shining light on the faults of others?  Do you have no soul, sister?” 

“MULTIPLE someones…probably.” 

“Fuck you, Wanda…” he grumbled, slouching down and staring at the pattern of the speakers on the radio in front of him. 

Why did she have to be so damn…perceptive all the time?  It was always like this.  She’d come in, she’d pick on something.  When he was a teenager, she was the one who figured out he had started running with a bad crowd.  When they were kids, she always knew when he was lying. 

It was obnoxious how easily she seemed to know what was going on with him.  Sometimes before he knew it.  And this…this wasn’t something he wanted to air out and relive.  He fucking KNEW it was his fault.  He could have made a fucking move and Darcy would be with him.  She’d be with him and not with that skinny little q-tip with a British accent.  But no, he hadn’t.  He’d made the move on some other girl and now look at him.  All alone.  With his sister.  On a Friday night.  Sadly listening to Darcy’s radio show on the couch. 

He reached over and angrily turned the knob on the radio, getting up to walk to his room. 

“Ah wonderful.  It wouldn’t be the same if you didn’t go stomping off to pout in your room every time I try to help you…” 

“Never asked for your help, Wanda…” he started to shut the door when he heard her reply. 

“You know you don’t have to.” 

He slammed the door.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Did you like it? I hope you liked it. xxoo


	8. Muscle For Rank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Christmas happens. And a bunch of other stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oi, this chapter was a beast. Special thanks to heyfrenchfreudiana for beta reading this for me. <3 
> 
> So much happens...and still no kissing. Omg. 
> 
> Chapter title is from "The Distance" by Cake.

It was Christmas Eve.  Which, if it were any other year would normally mean she was spending time with family. Aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents…people flew in from all over to camp on her parents’ living room floor and in their guest rooms.  To eat her Mom’s rib roast and mashed potatoes.  To watch football and play Yahtzee. 

But no.  Not this year.  This year, she was sitting on her bed in the room she grew up in.  Alone, having a super uncomfortable conversation with her boyfriend on the phone.

She and Ian had planned to call each other and open their gifts together. Which…wasn’t really the most PRACTICAL way to do it, but it was sweet.  She guessed.

It went well. At first.  They opened their gifts.

She’d gotten him a special edition of ‘ _Seven Samurai’_ , and he’d gotten her ‘ _Reservoir Dogs’_ , which she already had. But he had no way of knowing that, and it’s the thought that counts, right? 

After that, though…the conversation took a turn and she KIND of wished she was anywhere but where she was.

He wasn’t exactly being his friendliest to begin with, which she attributed to jet lag, or maybe the time they’d agreed to call each other.  It was seven pm where she was, which made it around one am the next day for him in London.  She’d offered to call earlier, but he wouldn’t hear of it.  Didn’t want her opening her gift at nine in the morning on his account. 

Not that it mattered much to her, but whatever. 

As previously stated, she’d have rather opened hers that morning.  It was a Lewis Family Christmas Eve tradition to play poker, eat Christmas cookies and shoot 100 proof peppermint schnapps until someone invariably puked and everyone swore off the stuff for another year. Everyone was waiting on her downstairs.

And Ian…he was taking forever to spit out his problem. He thanked her for her gift, but barely listened to her open hers before becoming stiffly silent.    She swore there had been three and a half minutes of silence.  That might not sound like a lot, but it really was when you were on the phone.

“What IS wrong?” she asked, not really thrilled to be having whatever this was happen on the phone. Or at all, if she was being honest.

“I’m sorry…” he apologized immediately, “I just…the more I think about this, the more upset I get…” 

She waited as long as she possibly could before the silence got to her and she asked, “The more you think about what?”  Her thoughts immediately went to Pietro.  She knew she should feel guilty.  More than she did, anyway. 

She’d been talking more about him with her mother than she had about Ian.  Not really her fault.  She could talk about Ian anywhere, but only talk about Piet with her Mom.  Since her mom was the only one who knew he existed.  Because her dad was a touch old-fashioned and might very well flip his shit if he found out Darcy was living with two guys.  Or maybe she was just making excuses for herself again.

Her eyes drifted over to her pillow.  Underneath, was a small wrapped gift, one she found in her bag when she got here, the one from Pietro.  Addressed to her in his hurried script. No mistaking it. 

She was saving it for later tonight.  It was wrong to do that, ( _wasn’t it?)_ but...she really didn’t want to open it in front of other people.  Plus, if it was something stupid, like a prank or something… _Oh, who the fuck are you kidding, Darce?_   She didn’t give a shit if it was wrong or not, she was opening it alone because it was something Pietro had bought for her.  If it was a prank, or if it was actually something thoughtful…it didn’t matter…she wasn’t going to share the moment with anyone else. 

_Jesus, Darcy…Ian! Ian is your boyfriend.  Ian._

The thought wasn’t as grounding as it had been previously.  Probably because said boyfriend was acting like an adolescent.  And this wasn’t fucking high school.

Ian continued, his voice becoming just that much more grating, “It’s just that…I’m a little put off that there was never any discussion of spending any part of the holiday together…” 

“Ian— “ 

“And you didn’t even offer to take me to the airport, or to at least see me off…I felt like you were glad to be rid of me or something.”

_Fuck me, I’m a terrible person…he has no fucking clue and I’m sitting here just…Oh there.  Guilt. I DO have a soul.  Good to know I’m not an empty shell of a person._

“Ian…it’s not…I was just really stressed about finals and the show and…”   

“Which is precisely why I don’t see why we couldn’t have spent the holiday together,” he interrupted.  

She took a deep breath, trying to answer as truthfully as possible without hurting him, “I needed a break.” 

“From me?” 

“From everything…and you.  You’ve been kind of…intense lately.  I think the time apart is a good thing.” 

“Intense?  Darcy.  I’m not being intense.  I’m being interested in you.  I’m trying to be a part of your life.”

 _Look, dude.  I was trying to feel bad for you and you’re making it really difficult…_  

“I think I’m the one who should decide who is a part of my life and who isn’t…” she snapped.   

“You don’t want me in your life?  If that’s it, just tell me.  I shouldn’t have to try so hard to get you to notice me.  If you don’t want to be with me, just say it.” 

She really hated ultimatums.  Really fucking hated them.

“Okay fine.  I don’t want to be with you. I apparently can’t give you what you’re looking for.  You deserve better.” 

There was silence on the other end of the line.  To the point where she thought maybe he’d hung up on her.  Honestly, it would have been better than what actually happened.

“On Christmas Eve, really?”

 _Oh good God…_  

“You’re the one who asked,” she reminded him 

“Fine.  I’m sorry I wasn’t what you were looking for either.” 

She false started a few times, starting to apologize out of habit, but stopping before any of the words came out. It wouldn’t be genuine.  And he wouldn’t listen to her now anyway.      

“I hope you understand that I won’t be retrieving you from the train station when you return…” he said stiffly. 

“I’ll call Wade or Piet.” 

Ian hummed knowingly, “Oh, I figured. I’m sure Pietro would just…jog over and carry you back on his shoulders.” 

“Don’t…” 

“Don’t what?  I suppose this is partially my fault.  I knew from the second I saw the two of you in the room together…”

“Fuck…Ian, please? Don’t make this messier…” 

“Did you invite HIM back to your parents’ home?  Is he sitting there laughing at me right now?” 

“NO. Ian.  You’re being ridiculous.” 

“No.  I’m not.  I’m not being ridiculous.  Because it’s true, isn’t it?  You have feelings for him?” 

She paused for only a moment, deciding he deserved the truth.  “Yes.  I do.” 

He chuckled without humor.  “Well…I’d guess I’d better end this then.” 

There was a click before the line went dead with a beep.  She swore and tossed the phone down to the end of the bed, falling back in that oh-so cliché way onto her pillows, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes. 

The whole conversation had given her a headache, but at the same time, it felt like a cleanse.  Like, you have to go through that couple days of feeling sick before you start feeling better? 

She groaned.  No matter whether she’d felt anything romantic for the guy or not, she felt bad for treating him that way.  She could even admit now that she’d only gone out with him in retaliation to Pietro’s little Twinkie binge. And that was horrible of her. But, she couldn’t sit there and force herself to have feelings for someone who was at best kind of amusing and at worst, the most annoying presence in her life.  He wasn’t perfect. 

She sat up, straightening her back and stretching.

She looked down at the unwrapped gift still in her lap.  A movie she already owned.  And the version she owned was better than this one.  If that wasn’t a metaphor for her relationship with Ian, she didn’t know what was.  It was something she hadn’t needed.  She was better off alone than with him. 

She walked downstairs with the DVD, sliding it into her parents’ movie shelf before joining them and the rest of her family in the dining room.  She felt like a terrible person, but it was still time to get her schnapps on.   

* * *

 

Pietro tore the paper off the gift Darcy had left on the kitchen table for him.  He’d snuck hers into her bag, not wanting to be there when she opened it…just in case she hated it. 

Her gift to him was oddly shaped and had been gnawing at him since he saw it sitting there when she’d gone home for Christmas.  He’d wanted to open it the second she left, but Wanda had made him wait. 

It turned out to be three items…the first was a Glad container of sugar cookies, all shaped like snowmen and reindeer.  Apparently homemade, but he couldn’t remember seeing her baking.  Ever. 

The second was a personalized travel mug, “Because they never get your name right at Starbucks,” she’d scrawled on a Christmas card that was secured with a rubber band around the cup. 

He smiled.  Actually something he’d use.  Not for coffee, since he didn’t really drink it. Not while he was training, anyway.  But it’d be nice for tea.   

The third was a box of chai latte K-cups for the Keurig brewer her mother had sent all of them for Christmas. 

He was starting to think his gift wasn’t going to be enough…maybe he should give her something else.  Like cash. 

“Aww…”  Wanda sat down beside him and picked up the travel mug.  “That is so cute…is it from Darcy?” 

He nodded, reaching over to take it back from her.  “Yes.  It’s mine.” 

His sister rolled her eyes.  “I know.  It has your name on it, Genius…”  She slapped something down on the table.  “Whose is THIS? Can you tell me that?” 

He frowned, looking at whatever it was.  He picked it up between his fingertips, letting it dangle.  It looked like a mask of some kind.  Red with black eyes.  Like a ski mask, with black mesh over the eyes. It looked strangely familiar, like he should know what it was, but he couldn’t really place it.  “I have no fucking idea, but I can tell you it’s probably Wade’s.” 

She made a face, “Why?” 

“Because it’s not mine.  And it’s certainly not Darcy’s.  I assume it isn’t yours…that leaves Wade.  Plus, he seems to own a ton of weird shit.” 

“Is it a…Halloween costume or something?” 

_Is it?  No…I KNOW I’ve seen it somewhere before…_

Pietro shrugged, “Trust me, you’ll live a much simpler life if you don’t ask questions.  Just put it back where you found it.” 

“How can you be so…calm about this?  He lives with you. What does he even DO?”

“I don’t know.  Don’t care.  He is relatively clean and pays his rent on time…now go.  Put it back.”

 _Pays his rent, has random squirrel tails, vodka guns, and apparently a red face mask._   

She started to protest. 

“Go on, and I’ll show you the rest of the things Darcy got me…” he grinned widely, full well knowing that she was dying to know.     

She set her jaw, hesitating before getting up and leaving the room. She came back, plopping down in the chair beside him.  She was quiet for a few seconds before speaking.  “…she baked for you?” she asked, gesturing to the cookies.   

He nodded, smiling despite trying not to. 

“That’s so sweet…what did you get her?”

He shrugged. 

“You DID get her something, didn’t you?” 

“YES, WANDA.  I got her something.” 

“Okay…just checking…I never know with you.” He crossed his arms smugly. “You’re not going to tell me what, are you?”  He shook his head.  He didn’t really want anyone but Darcy knowing what it was, to be honest.  “It isn’t your fucking prank, is it?” 

“NO…do you think I’m an idiot?” 

“A little bit, yes.” 

Pietro rolled his eyes and got up to try out his new tea as Wade shuffled out into the kitchen, pouring himself a bowl of cereal. He leaned against the counter, strangely quiet, eating his breakfast and casting sideways looks towards Wanda that he thought Pietro didn’t notice. Pietro wanted to just tell him to just fucking go for it.  Maybe it would keep Wanda out of his affairs if she had one of her own…and honestly, it would kill two birds with one stone.  Wanda would climb out of his ass, AND he could possibly find out what the FUCK Wade did for a living. But, there was a tactful way to do this. Crudely telling Wade to get on with it was not it. That would most definitely embarrass Wanda, which was never a good idea and should be avoided at all costs.  

Problem was, he never saw Wade after breakfast.  He seemed to be constantly busy nowadays.  Busy with his face mask.  And squirrel tail…and—suddenly, it all clicked.  He flashed instantly to a very familiar poster he’d seen around for the past few months.  It featured a masked wrestler, wearing that same red mask, flanked by a woman in a black leotard and a squirrel tail, elbow dropping a man with a silver face mask.

_La Piscina Muerte!_

He cut his gaze over to Wade, trying to imagine him as a wrestler with a red mask, cocking his vodka gun and getting help from Squirrel Girl, who was either his sidekick, or teammate…he wasn’t sure how this worked.  He just knew that some of the guys on the track team had recently gone to one of the fights and had deemed the masked wrestler “brutal”.  He’d seen the posters around town, advertising the events. He had the biggest winning streak right now, having gone the longest without being unmasked. 

But there was no way...

But, on the other hand, it DID explain all of Wade’s random shit.  And his random black eyes.  And his odd work hours. 

But there was no way. 

Was there?

_Huh.  That’s…very interesting.  If it’s true.  Probably not.  Probably just circumstantial. Maybe.  Or…_

He turned his attention back to the matter at hand:  Getting Wanda off his back.  It made no difference whether Wade was a wrestler or not.    At the very least, it was something interesting to share with Darcy.

Pietro took his mug of tea and pointedly made a big deal out of leaving the kitchen, citing that he had to go gather up his laundry. Give those two time to speak to one another.  And to leave him alone. 

He sat down at his desk, surveying his room.  He could probably stand to tidy up or whatever.  Not that it mattered.  No one was coming in here except for him.  He hadn’t had anyone IN his room since the last time Lexie was here.   

Pietro sipped at his tea and tried to talk himself out of texting Darcy.  She was spending time with her family.  He could text her later.  Maybe tonight and she’d see it in the morning.  But, what would he say?  It would be weird to send her a text she’d see on Christmas morning, wouldn’t it?

There was a knock on his door, so he set his mug down and went to open the door, only half surprised to see Wade standing there, scratching his head and looking slightly nervous.  “Quick word, Piet?” 

“Sure…” he said, leaning back and folding his arms.  “Just one though.” 

Wade smirked, “Yeah, so I was just kind of wondering if you know…you’d be okay with…because it’s kind of against the bro code and all that…I just thought I might ask your permission before I did it though…wanted to do this right, so…” 

“Are you asking me out, Wade?  Because I’m flattered.”

“Ha.  You’d BE so lucky.  Normally I’d respond with something juvenile, and there would a general back and forth…but I’d like to be serious for a moment.  About Wanda…I know she’s your sister.”    

“Please.  Take my sister out.  Go.  And do not tell her you asked my permission.  She would murder you.” 

Wade smirked, “She can do whatever she wants to me.” 

Pietro raised his eyebrows.

“What?  She can.” 

“That’s…fine.  But I don’t want details.  Need I remind you…she’s my sister.” 

“Right?  Like you.  With boobs. Well…not the firm man rack you’re sporting right now…no…more the soft, supple…tender…”

“Stop,” Pietro said quietly. 

“Squeezable.” 

“Wade.” 

“Voluptuous…” 

“Die.” 

“I’m done…But, question…is it weird to ask her out on Christmas Eve…like, should I wait a few days?  Any of your other friends sniffing around?  I don’t wanna lose my window.”

He shook his head.  “I said you could, I’m not telling you how.”

Wade grumbled, “Okay, well…question…LAST question, I promise…QUESTIONS, actually. What did you get for Darcy?  And can I pay you for half and convince you to put my name on the tag?” 

Pietro shook his head.  “I gave it to her before she left.” 

“Damn.  She got me a bottle of Jack Daniels, a shot glass, and a French coffee press…and cookies.  But those are gone already…” 

“Why’d she get you a French press if her mom got us— “ 

“Because she KNEW I’d hate the damn thing.  Because Darcy is all things good in the world and I didn’t get her anything because I didn’t know we were doing that…and…wait a minute…you got her something, but you didn’t get me anything?  What the fuck gives, Maximoff?  After all we’ve been through?” 

Pietro frowned.  “Okay, first…you didn’t get me anything, so fuck you.  And second…” he turned around, grabbing the envelope off his desk addressed to Wade.  “Happy Holidays.” 

Wade opened it right there, it was just a plain envelope with two twenties in it.  Pietro probably would have bought him booze instead, but he wasn’t old enough to buy it yet. Six more months.

He pocketed one and handed the other back to Pietro, “Same to you, Buddy.” 

Pietro took it and shrugged, stuffing it into his pocket with his phone.  “Thanks.” 

“Think Darce would get mad if I gave her cash?” 

He shook his head, “No idea.” 

“Is that what you gave her?” 

“No.” 

“Cool.  So she won’t have one yet.” 

He frowned as Wade meandered back into the living room.  Apparently, their conversation was over. 

Pietro had a really hard time picturing him as a “brutal” undefeated wrestler.  But, people were surprising.  Like Darcy.  Darcy was surprising.     

He finished his tea, showered, changed, and came out to the living room.  Darcy had mentioned something about a twenty-four-hour marathon of “A Christmas Story” today, and she’d balked when he’d admitted to never having seen it.  He could remedy that situation AND have a backup conversation for when he texted her later. 

He guessed that meant he was texting her later.  If he was coming up with contingency plans. 

* * *

Darcy shuffled up to her room, a little fuzzy and VERY warm and toasty.  Turns out her cousin Jake had upped his game since last year.  Her breath was going to smell like Peppermint Patties until New Year’s. 

She turned on her little side table lamp and pulled Pietro’s gift out from under her pillow.  She brushed her fingers over the tag before turning it over and ripping the paper off. 

It was a small white box.  With a hinge.  Flat, though.  She popped it open and gasped.  Maybe she was drunk, so she was making a bigger deal of it than she should be.  But she didn’t think she was too drunk to appreciate what was obviously a beautiful pendant. 

It was an aquamarine, oval cut and polished, on a silver chain.  Holy fuck, it was her birthstone.  How did he know her birthstone? 

She pulled out her phone, snapping a picture of it in the box.  She texted Pietro the picture, captioning it with the heart eyes emoji. 

He texted her back almost immediately.  Which, probably should have struck her as odd.  But didn’t.   

_“Glad you like it.”_

She responded, _“Open yours yet?”_

_“Yes.  Thank you.”_

She hesitated on her next text, typing it and erasing it a few times before she actually worked up the courage to send it.  _“Can I call you?”_

His reply seemed like it took forever. 

 _“Of course.”_   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, like...Wade's a wrestler. ;) 
> 
> I apologize for the abrupt reveal, if I wasn't posting this as I was writing it, it would have been something I'd have been teasing for the whole fic, but...alas. It's a WIP. Add that to my list of regrets. 
> 
> But, as it is, Pietro is the only one who's made the connection. 
> 
> And, I kind of went the easy route and made Ian a d-bag. A whiny one at that. No regrets there, though. It was time for him to go. 
> 
> And Pietro's gift? Awwww! Amiright?


	9. But You Swear I'm Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which...finally, Finally, FINALLY...
> 
> We have some kissing. Yes, folks. Kissing. 
> 
> Nine chapters in, we have some kissing. 
> 
> And some talking. 
> 
> And Darcy is KIND OF awesome. Pietro is very lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by the ever-amazing, ever-awesome, heyfrenchfreudiana. 
> 
> Go ahead and listen to "Puppy Love" by This Wild Life.

“What’s Lexie DOING here?” Pietro hissed.

Wade looked up from the drink he was pouring long enough to spot the blonde by the door.  He shrugged, “I thought you invited her. Wasn’t she your little flavor of the week circa…six weeks ago?”   

“NO.”

“Really?  I could have sworn she was one of ‘Pietro’s Thirty-One Flavors’…” 

“No, she…she was.  But I didn’t invite her tonight.” 

“Oh.  Wow.  I wonder what’s she’s doing here.” 

Pietro thought that his head might explode. “WADE…please...” 

Wade set the bottle of rum back on the table. “Look, dude.  It’s a New Year’s Eve party.  It was an open invitation…I don’t know what you want me to say.  I didn’t invite her.” 

Pietro took another tortuous look out into the living room, where Lexie was currently chatting up a group of Wade’s friends.  Darcy was with Wanda, safely across the room.  For now.  “I know it was an open invitation, Wade…but…she’s my ex and it wasn’t particularly easy to break up with her and now Darcy and I are…and Lexie’s here…and…and…”    

Wade yanked him away from the door and sat him down in one of the kitchen chairs.  “Deep breaths, Piet.  So, if I understand you correctly…what you’re saying is…you don’t want ‘Rocky Road’ out there to know that ‘Chunky Monkey’ is your new flavor?  Amiright?”

Pietro frowned, “Are you using code names?” 

“Yeah.  Ice Cream flavors. Because of the…’31 flavors’ thing. ‘Rocky Road’ is Lexie and— “ 

“Are you calling Darcy ‘chunky’?”    

Wade scoffed, “No.  I was just saying…she’d look good drizzled with chocolate.  And bananas.  And nuts.  Geez, dude.” 

“Wade.” 

“Fine.  YOUR banana and nuts.” 

“Focus…please…Lexie is here and— “ 

“Right.  Yeah.  Ice cream…I don’t know if we have any…” he walked back to the freezer, opening the door.

_Oh.  So that’s what an aneurysm feels like._

Pietro got up and slammed the freezer door.  “I need help. I had this whole evening planned and a run-in with my ex wasn’t part of it.”

“Oh really?  You had a plan?  Let me guess…you were gonna kiss Darcy at midnight, sweep her off her feet and into your bed.” 

He scoffed, “No…” He paused, before relenting, “Yes? I mean…it doesn’t HAVE to end that way.  I am not…getting my hopes up for…that.  It is not…too transparent?”

“Well, it’s not exactly opaque.” 

“Well, whether it is or it isn’t…it’s not going to work if Lexie’s here.  She’ll…do something.” 

“How do you know?  Maybe she hates you now.” 

“Trust me.  She was the one it took me two tries to break up with?” 

“Oh, right.  Shit.  Okay…yeah, she’ll probably do something.” 

“So will you help me?  Maybe ask Lexie to leave?”   

Wade sighed, “Usually, I don’t get involved with shit like this.  BUT, I kind of owe you, for…you know…introducing me to Wanda.  So think of this as a thank you for sharing a womb with her and then becoming my roommate so I could meet her…” 

Pietro frowned, “Don’t mention it.” 

“No, I mean it.  Thank you.  For being related to her.” 

“No, I MEAN it, DON’T mention it.  Ever again.” 

“Gotcha. But still.  I owe you, so…I’m going to give you some advice.  That you will invariably disregard, resulting in a fuck up of gigantic proportions. BUT, I will have a clear conscience, because I tried.” 

Pietro rolled his eyes. 

Wade ignored that and continued, “Okay, Piet…Darcy…is cool.” 

“I KNOW that…” 

“I don’t think you do.  Darcy.  Is.  Cool.  As in, if given all the information, she is capable of making an informed, intelligent decision.  Get me?” 

“I know she’s intelligent.” 

“Yes.  But that’s not what I’m saying.  What I’m saying…is…” he paused, sighing heavily, “Tell her about Lexie.  Explain that she’s a few bananas short of a bunch.  And I’m pretty sure Darcy will understand.” 

 _Lots of banana metaphors tonight._ “So your advice is…to be honest and open?” 

“Yeah…” Wade chuckled, “Imagine that…” he slapped Pietro on the back, “But you should go before this gets TOO after-school-special and I have to shoot myself.”    

Darcy chose that moment to traipse into the kitchen grabbing an empty red plastic cup.  “I need a drink…where’s the sangria?”   

“Or, I could go and you could stay.   Good talk, Buddy…” Wade tipped his cup and went back to the party. 

She bent at the waist and rummaged through the fridge.  He might have been staring at her rather voluptuous rear end instead of forming his next sentence in his head like he should have been. 

He really shouldn’t stare.  But those jeans…they were his favorite.  The ones that he’d stained with bath beads a few months back.  The way they hugged her curves was--

“Hey…” Darcy emerged with a pitcher of sangria.  “Did you know that Lexie is here?” 

“Yeah…” he said nervously, trying to prepare for what was sure to be an uncomfortable conversation. 

“Didn’t you break up with her like…a month ago?  Six weeks ago?  Something like that?” she poured some of the contents of the pitcher into her cup before bending and replacing it in the fridge.    

“Yeah…” he nodded. 

“Wow.  That really sucks…” She took a sip.

“Yeah…”   _Say something other than ‘yeah’, you moron._

“I’m sorry…” she reached out to touch his arm, her fingers were cold, but they felt nice. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah?”  _What. Is. Happening._

“Are you sure?  Do you want to leave?  Or we could go hang out in your room, if you want. Or mine.  Except Wanda’s still in there, isn’t she?  So yours.” 

“Yeah?”  _Holy. Shit._  

“Which?”  She took another sip.

“Uh…the room?” he blurted. 

“Okay.  I’m gonna dump this.  It’s disgusting…” she poured the rest down the sink and threw the cup in the trash.   

“Okay…” he nodded again. 

_I’m such an idiot.  Darcy IS really cool.  Holy shit.  I might love her a little bit.  But…let’s keep that to myself.  Yes. Keep that to yourself._

She grabbed his hand, which snapped him out of whatever weird daze he was in.  He took the lead, ducking into her room and through the bathroom to his room.

He switched on the light, still holding her hand.  He turned towards her.  She looked beautiful.  Absolutely beautiful.  Should he tell her that?  Did she want to hear that from him?  He felt strange.  Mostly because he’d spent the whole night freaking out about something that turned out to not be a big deal.  Or even a deal at all. 

“Darcy…”

“Hmm?” 

They were still standing, they should sit.  He wanted to actually sit with her. But he’d forgotten to fold his futon up this morning.

“I’m…uh…going to fold this up…” he dropped her hand and knelt to grab the bottom of the frame. 

It took a few tries, but he got it folded into a couch, pulling his blankets and sheets off in a flourish of fabric. 

She giggled. 

“What?” 

“You.  And your futon bed.” 

“You don’t like my futon?” he asked in mock offence.

She shrugged, “I don’t know, I’ve never used it.” 

He gestured towards the now bare seat to his left.  She sat down, scooting all the way to the back and pulling her feet up with her. 

“Do you like it?” 

She sniffed, “It’ll do.”

He turned slightly and she reached for his hand again, lacing their fingers. 

“Darcy…”  he began again. 

“Hmm?” 

“I…umm…I wanted to talk to you about Lexie…” 

She looked up at him, those piercing blue-gray eyes.  Steely gaze. 

“About why I…why I dated her to begin with…I…fuck it.  I’m an idiot.” 

She started to laugh, but thought better of it, pressing her lips together in a line.  “I’ll agree with that.” 

“I wanted you, but I thought it wasn’t something that should happen.  I worried about having to see you afterwards.  After we broke up.  I worried about losing our friendship…after we broke up.  And I worried about hurting you…” 

“After we broke up?” she finished for him. 

“Yeah…” 

“You hurt me anyway,” she stated bluntly. 

He took a deep breath.  “I know.  I’m sorry.”

Her gaze softened.  “You’re forgiven.  But I have to ask. What has changed?  Why is this…why are you willing to try it now?  Aren’t the same things true?  Aren’t you worried about all of that stuff now?” 

He shook his head. “No…because I’m going to try my damnedest not to chase you off.” 

She chuckled, “And how are you going to do that?” 

He gestured to himself, around the room vaguely.  “This.  Right now.  I’m laying this all out now. I want to try to…have a relationship.  A real one.  Not just…physical. Not that I don’t want physical.  I do.  I want physical…things with you…I…”

“Stop…” she grinned.  “Stop. Please…” she was still holding his hand.  Stroking it absently with her thumb.  She bit her lip and looked down at her lap.  “So what you’re saying is…you want a…relationship.  A real one.  With me?”

“Yes.” 

She nodded, trying and failing to stifle a smile.  “Okay.” 

“Okay? Okay as in…yes?” 

She nodded.  “Okay as in yes.”

He grinned, couldn’t really help it.  He squeezed her hand and looked back over at her. 

“Are you gonna kiss me?” she asked suddenly.  “I mean…it feels like you should kiss me.” 

“Well…to be honest…” he felt his face growing red.  “I was going to wait until midnight…” 

“Aww…that’s adorable.” 

He turned to look at her, catching her gaze.  Those beautiful eyes pulling him in.  Beautiful eyes.  Plump, pouty lips, just…waiting for him to… “What time is it?” he asked, eyes still on her lips as he leaned forward. 

“10:24…” she whispered, her hands were in his hair as she leaned back. His hand slid into hers as he moved closer.

“Close enough…” he murmured, finally…FINALLY, pressing his lips against hers. Oh and they WERE soft.  So soft…and sweet.  He parted his lips slightly and nearly groaned when hers parted immediately after.  His tongue darted out and met hers.  He tentatively explored her mouth, nibbling on her lips a little in between kisses.  She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and then he DID moan a little.  It was muffled, but she heard it.  Her hands were in his hair and she tugged it sharply, pulling his head away from her so she could talk.

“Can we move…this bar is digging into my back and—“ 

He scooted back quickly, taking her with him. He rummaged on the floor for his pillow and propped it under her before laying her back again. “Better?” 

“Much…” She was gazing up at him, her hand still in his hair.  Her lips were parted, looking thoroughly kissed. Not that they couldn’t use a few more…

He glanced down at her neck, thinking about possibly pressing his lips there, feeling her pulse, licking a long stripe up her throat. He traced it with his thumb as her necklace caught his eye.  The one he’d gotten her for Christmas.  He smiled faintly, lifting the pendant to look at it closer. 

“So, you like this?”

“Yes…” she grinned, “I told you before, didn’t I?” 

“Yes…I just like hearing it.” 

“I’m still not buying that story about you not knowing my birthstone…” 

“I didn’t!  Just thought it matched your eyes.” 

“Bull.”

“Not bull…” he grabbed her hand and pressed it to his chest.  “Cross my heart.” 

She clutched the front of his shirt, pulling him down to kiss her again.

He turned, rolling so he was situated between her legs.  Her hands clutched at his shirt, her lips pulling a little more hungrily at his. She wrapped her legs around his waist and then her hips rolled against his…and he stopped kissing her.  “Wait…” 

“Sorry…isn’t this what you wanted? I— “

He smirked, “Just how far do you want me to…what are you wanting from…where do you want this to go?” 

“Can’t we just wait and see?” 

“We can…I just…I was wondering if…” 

“Piet.  I was eye-fucking the hell out of you the day I met you…” 

He blushed, “So if we ended up…uh…” he was hesitant to call it fucking.  It felt like it was more than that.

“Fucking?” she added. 

“If we ended up having sex, you would be okay with that?” 

“Yes,” she said simply.  “Yes.  This is me, consenting all over you.  And before you ask, I’m not drunk.  The only thing I had that was alcoholic was that god-awful sangria, and I didn’t even finish it.”

“Okay…” His voice was little more than a whisper as he leaned in to capture her lips again, suddenly desperate not to be connected to her in some way. 

“Wait…sorry…” she ducked away from him.  “I should ask this before things get…more heated…but do you have something?  Uh…a condom something?”

“Of course I— “he froze.  Goddammit.  “am out…” 

She huffed in exasperation.  “Are you serious?”

“You don’t have…” 

“No.  I don’t.” 

He sat back and extended his hand to help her sit up. 

“Do you think Wade has any?” she asked.

Pietro snorted, “He’s dating my sister.  I don’t want to think about if he has them.” 

“Huh…” she said, “Seems to me, if I were you, I’d feel better knowing he DID have them…” 

“When you’re right, you’re right…” he started to stand up, but quickly realized what a…large mistake that would be and sat right back down, trying to think of anything but the beautiful woman sitting beside him. 

“Need me to go ask?” 

“No, I just…need a minute.” 

She put her hand on his shoulder.  “Sit this one out, Slugger.”  She used him as leverage to stand up and was out the door before he could stop her. 

He sat back to wait, kind of relieved he wasn’t going to have to go beg Wade Wilson for condoms while trying to act like he didn’t have a semi that he was trying to hide. 

She came back soon enough, empty-handed with her purse slung over her shoulder.  “He was out…so I’m gonna make a drug store run…” 

“I’ll come with you…” he stood, ready to follow her out the door. 

She grinned, biting her lip as she unabashedly eyed him.  “Hmm…might have to take your car…you’ve got a roomy back seat, dontcha?” 

He nearly choked. She was going to kill him.  He was going to choke on his own tongue and die and it would be all her fault. 

She grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door into the living room.  He stiffened at first, expecting to see Lexie there, but she was nowhere to be found. 

He relaxed a little and let Darcy lead him out the front door and across the lawn to his car. 

She stopped dead in her tracks, swearing under her breath and looking up at him.  He looked and saw what made her stop. 

Lexie, writing something on the windshield of his car with a lipstick.  He couldn’t read it from here, but he saw the word “DICK”, so he imagined it was nothing good. 

“Hey!” Darcy yelled loudly. 

Lexie jumped, startled and turned to face her.  Her face screwed up into a grimace and she yelled something incoherent and threw her cup at Darcy. 

Well, she threw it at Darcy, but she was drunk off her ass so her aim was terrible. 

It hit Pietro square in the face.  He got two eyefuls of frozen strawberry margarita.  And that shit burned like hell. 

He wiped his eyes furiously.  Every time he tried to open them, it stung more. Lexie was swinging her arms around, trying to hit something. Darcy kept moving him back.  He was fighting the urge to take a swing at Lexie himself.  He swore under his breath.  “She’s a girl.  You can’t hit a girl.  You can’t hit a girl…” 

Darcy practically growled.  “Fuck this, I CAN hit a girl…” She dropped her purse on the ground and there was a screechy sound and the scraping of gravel.

Up on the porch, someone yelled, “FIGHT!” 

   

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. But I feel like Pietro's had that drink in the face coming for a while. Let this be a lesson to you. Always be prepared, always keep condoms handy. Or you'll wind up with a face full of frozen Margarita. 
> 
> Comments, please? And don't worry, the rest of that fight is coming. ;)


	10. I Wanna Sip This Slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm officially terrible. Leaving you like that. 
> 
> BUT, BUT, there is SMUT in this chapter. YAY SMUT! Glorious smut! 
> 
> No sex yet...I didn't think it was appropriate at this time...but...I thought some smutty third base action might be in order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed. Because I'm terrible.

When people use the phrase ‘and time stood still’…they obviously weren’t referring to high-adrenaline situations. 

Because from the time her fist collided with Lexie’s stupid face to the time that Pietro had her arms and was pulling her back, she felt like nothing had happened. 

Except her face fucking hurt.  Her mouth tasted like blood.  And she had a handful of Lexie’s blonde hair extensions clutched in her fist. 

Lexie looked worse for the wear.  Bloody nose.  Lop-sided hair.  Missing a shoe. 

She spit at Darcy once.  “Fucking BITCH…”

“I’ll show you a fucking BITCH…get back over here, Blondie!” Darcy kicked her legs out and wriggled from Pietro’s grasp long enough to bolt forward and get pulled back again. 

“Darcy…Darcy…” his voice was in her ear.  “Calm down.. _._ ” 

“Calm? Who’s not…CALM...?” she gritted out as she tried in vain to escape his arms. 

“Get her inside!”  Wade hissed, his arms currently wound around Lexie, who was putting up a fight, just not as ferocious as Darcy’s. 

Pietro was stronger than he looked, apparently.  And later, when she was in the mood to be impressed, she would be.  But she still had a lot of “fight-me-adrenaline” going on and that bitch Lexie had it coming. 

“Let it rest, Darce, you kicked her ass,” Wade assured her. 

She slowly stopped moving, allowing Piet to lead her back into the house. Her lip felt swollen.  It was starting to hurt.  She relinquished the hair extensions, allowing Pietro to toss them over to Wade.   

Most of the people were gone, having run outside to watch the fight go down, and leaving soon after.  

Pietro stopped, once they were in the house, hoisting her into his arms, he carried her back to their bathroom, setting her on the vanity.  And then he was in her face, peering intently at her mouth, at a place over her left eye.  He knelt and came back up with the first aid kit, murmuring quietly.  “I am so sorry, Darcy…I am so sorry…” 

“Piet, it’s not your fault…” she lisped.  Her lip was really swollen, apparently.  “She’s nuts.”    

Wade came in then, pushing the door open with a bang and nudging Pietro out of the way.  He rummaged around in the first aid kit for a few seconds. 

“Hey…I had this…” Pietro insisted. 

“I’m sure you did, Chariots of Fire.  And when one of us has blisters from our shoes or a pulled hammy, we’ll be sure to call you.  In the meantime, though…THIS is kinda my thing…” Wade raised his eyebrows knowingly. 

“Why?” Darcy asked, her voice was croaky. Raw.  “Why is this your thing?” 

Wade glanced over at Pietro once before continuing, “Because…look at this face…” he grabbed Pietro’s jaw and tugged him down, “This face has never been in a fight…Wow, your skin is REALLY soft…” Both of them froze and Pietro disengaged himself from Wade’s grasp.  “I mean…look at his face and look at mine.  Which one has been hit more?” 

Darcy looked between them, nodding once at Wade.  Not that he looked rougher, per se…but he did have a crooked nose.  And a scar over his left eyebrow.  “Sorry, Piet…” 

Pietro shook his head, “Don’t worry about it…what can I do?” 

“Go get a bag of frozen peas for her eye…and—“ 

“Do I have a black eye?” Darcy interrupted. 

“No,” Wade said, his voice a little too loud and a little too high.  “Not NOW.  But tomorrow, yeah.  Yeah, you will tomorrow.” 

“Shouldn’t I put a steak on it or something?” 

Wade snorted, “Whoa there, Balboa. We’re poor college students, do you think we’re MADE of steak or something?” 

“But we’re made of…frozen peas?” 

“More peas than steak, that’s for sure.”    

Pietro returned momentarily with the peas, which Wade pressed against Darcy’s left eye. 

“What else can I do?” Piet was practically bouncing on his toes. 

“Rip up some petticoats and boil a big pot of water…” 

Darcy frowned, “Why?  Am I giving birth in a Civil War movie?”    

“He wants me to get out of the way…” Pietro rolled his eyes.  

Wade grinned widely, “You get me man.  You get me like no other.” 

“He can’t hold my hand or anything?  What are you going to do?”

“I don’t even know, and I won’t until he gets out of the way and I can look…I won’t perform any major reconstructive surgery until your boyfriend can hold your hand, don’t worry…”

 _Boyfriend…_ Her gaze shot over to where Pietro was standing, arms folded as he both tried to watch every move Wade made and stay out of his way.  _He IS my boyfriend now, isn’t he?_   

She stayed still, let Wade dab at her wounds with a washcloth, wincing whenever he pressed a little too hard. 

“God…jumpy, aren’t you?” Wade muttered. 

She would have cocked an eyebrow at that, but it hurt too much, so she settled for a blank stare.  “You are literally poking my wounds.” 

“I’m DABBING at them.  With a washcloth. If that hurts you, you’re gonna fucking LOVE when I have to flush them out with peroxide and alcohol.” 

“Why do you have to use alcohol?” she asked, her voice getting all high and jumpy. 

“To disinfect it.  You want it to get infected?” 

“No.” 

“Okay, then.  Piet can hold your hand for that.  And I’m sure he’ll kiss it better later.” He smiled sweetly over his shoulder at Pietro. 

So…okay.  The alcohol thing HURT.  It fucking hurt.  She had to lean over the sink while Wade poured first peroxide and then rubbing alcohol over both the cuts.  She tried not to squeeze Pietro’s hand too hard, opting instead to clench her other hand on the underside of the vanity. 

Also, peroxide tastes terrible.  Just an FYI. 

Luckily, after all that, Wade pronounced both cuts shallow and not in need of stitches.  He put a butterfly bandage over the one on her forehead and told her to not use her lips too much.  He then elbowed Pietro in the ribs and went out to the kitchen to exchange the not-so-frozen-anymore peas for carrots, leaving them alone in the bathroom. 

“I am so sorry…” Pietro repeated.  “I shouldn’t have—“ 

“Have what?  Gotten frozen margarita in your eyes?” she smiled crookedly, trying not to open up the cut on her lip again.  “Are you okay?” 

He waved his hand.  “Yeah, yeah…someone gave me some water to flush my eyes out…of course, by that time, you were already beating the shit out of her.” 

“She got some hits in.” 

“Not many…” he smiled and leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, pulling back when she turned towards him.  “You heard Dr. Wade.  Don’t use your lips too much…”

“That’s not fair…” she protested. 

Wade chose that moment to re-enter the bathroom with the carrots.  Which he chucked at Pietro immediately.  “Hey…HEY…don’t ruin my handy work. You can kiss her ANYWHERE, except there.” 

Pietro picked up the carrots and handed them to her, turning to push Wade out of the bathroom. 

“I mean it, Maximoff.  You break it, you bought it.” 

“What does that even mean?” 

“Just keep it below the belt, okay?”

“Get out…” Piet gave him one final push out the door, turning to look at Darcy briefly, blushing slightly. 

“Just FYI, I’m FINE with anything you want to do below my belt…I mean…I’m not WEARING a belt…” she tugged up the hem of her t-shirt.  “But, I mean…I’m sure you could figure it out…”   

His mouth fell open for a moment before he responded, “I’m going to the drug store.  Anything I can get you?” 

“Are you making a condom run?”

“Well…I was GOING to get my girlfriend some Tylenol, because I noticed we were out…and you’re supposed to alternate Advil with Tylenol…or something.” 

“Oh…” she again had to check herself so she didn’t grin widely at being called ‘girlfriend’.  “I’m your girlfriend?” 

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her forehead.  “You are.” 

“Well…I might like a Slurpee from 7-11…” 

“Okay.” 

“And condoms, if you’re feeling up to it…” 

“I’m not so sure YOU’RE feeling up to it,” he raised his eyebrows and wrapped his arms around her waist, helping her down from the vanity.  He lingered, his fingers sneaking under the hem of her shirt. 

“We’ll see…” she teased.  “Can I hang out in your room tonight or—?” 

“Please? Please do that? My room will be SO much more awesome with you in it.”

She smiled, immediately wincing and covering her mouth, “Stop it…it hurts when I smile…” 

“Sorry…” he bent slightly and scooped her up in his arms again, bridal style, carrying her into his room.  “I’m still really sorry…” he bent and deposited her gently on the futon.  “If I’d just gone down on you like I was thinking about…this wouldn’t have happened…”

“What was that, now?”

He grinned and kissed her softly on the lips, careful not to pull at her lips too much.  “I’ll be back soon…” 

“You’re a fucking tease, that’s what you are…” she accused. 

He shrugged and grinned broadly, ducking out of the room. 

She lay there for a few minutes before realizing she was still wearing the shirt covered in her own blood, and probably some of Lexie’s.  Not exactly sexy. 

She sighed and sat up, deciding to go change before she didn’t feel like moving anymore. 

She hobbled through the bathroom, not realizing how sore she was until she had to move on her own.  She rapped on the door to her room, not wanting to walk in on Wanda or anything. 

There was no answer, so she slipped in and out quickly, grabbing a set of pajamas and underwear.  She changed in the bathroom, padding quietly back to Pietro’s room.  She sat down gingerly on the futon and pulled his big fleece blanket up over her legs.  She realized she’d lost the carrots at some point, but she couldn’t be bothered with it.  She was comfortable. 

Her phone buzzed just then, a text from Pietro.  Upon further inspection, it was a picture of the Slurpee machines at 7-11.  _“What color?”_

 _“Blue?”_ she texted back. 

He never responded, so she assumed blue was fine. 

He bustled back into the room about ten minutes later, handing her the bottle of Tylenol and her Slurpee.  Her blue Slurpee. 

“Thanks,” she said, swallowing two of the Tylenol and laying back on the futon, bending the straw to sip daintily from the huge fucking Styrofoam cup.   

“Do not mention it…” he grinned and stowed a box in his top drawer. 

Condoms.  Her stomach leapt a little and she had to hold back a squeak. 

She watched him walk back and forth, yanking off his shirt and grabbing pajama pants from a drawer in his dresser, walking into the bathroom and pushing the door almost shut to change. 

He walked back out in his pajamas, tossing the jeans into the hamper. 

He ran his fingers through his hair, turning to look at her, laughing nervously.  “I—uh…do you want to watch TV?” 

“Sure!”  she started to sit up, but he stopped her.

“No, no…get comfortable, I’ll work around you…” 

“Okay…” she settled back down on the pillow that smelled like him. He worked himself behind her, pressed flush up against her back.  He propped his head up on an arm and turned on the TV, handing the remote to her. 

She clicked through the channels, not really registering what was on, because she wanted to try and feel every part of his body that was touching her.  His bare skin felt scorching hot and she was VERY aware that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. 

His other arm was draped over her waist, playing a little with the hem of her tank top. 

She settled on Nick at Nite, Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Mostly because she couldn't stand laying here and not touching him.  

He laid his head down behind hers, his breath hitting the back of her neck.  She was fairly certain that her entire body was covered in goosebumps.

He moved closer, his lips brushed the shell of her ear.  “This okay?” His fingers dipped down under the waistband of her shorts. 

She nodded, “Yeah…that’s fine…” 

“Don’t worry…” he breathed.  “I’ll keep it below the belt…” 

She huffed out a sound that was supposed to be laughter, but it sounded more like a moan or a gasp. 

His lips pressed down right behind her ear, popping quietly as he peppered kisses down the side of her neck.  His hand slipped out of her waistband, sliding down the side of her hip and over her thigh. 

She had to fight not to bite her lip, instead exhaling forcefully. And often. 

“Breathe, Darcy…” he whispered, his words hot against her skin.  “Let me hear you…I want to hear you…” 

She let out a tiny gasp when his hand moved around the back of her thigh.  She bent her knee, propping her leg up as his fingers moved up the leg of her shorts, up further still to play with the elastic of her panties. 

She groaned, rolling her hips back automatically, colliding with his. 

He grunted in her ear, bucking forward to meet her, grinding against her ass.  She could feel him through the flannel of his pajamas, a hard bulge poking her. 

His lips parted, teeth teasing around her earlobe as his fingers began to move further still, pressing lightly at the apex of her thighs.  Fingertips rubbing gently over her clit.   

She moaned, pressing back against him. 

“Here?” she could feel him grinning against her.  “Do you like that?” 

“Yes…” The smug bastard.   

His fingers pulled back slightly, slipping inside her underwear.  She gasped, shifting slightly to give him better access.  Moaning as he spread her open, fingers sliding easily along her folds.   He inhaled sharply, “You’re so wet…”  He teased around her opening, moving up to circle her clit again, and back down again. 

He used his other arm to tug her closer, flush against him, so his hand could move unencumbered.  Two fingers delved further inside her, crooking slightly as his thumb rubbed over her clit.  Slowly at first, but increasing in speed and pressure. 

“God…Piet…” she whimpered, her hips slamming back against his.  His cock hard and rubbing against her ass. 

His teeth teased her earlobe, his breath was hot and rapid in her ear as his hand moved between her legs.  “Darcy…” his voice was low, no more than a whisper.  “You don’t know how often I’ve thought about this…” 

She might have SOME idea.  Given how often she’d thought about this.  Feverishly thought about this.  Utilizing that little vibrator she kept in her underwear drawer.  Biting into a pillow so she didn’t say his name.  And not that she was saying he was better than the vibe, because fuck that, he’d have to have super powers to be better than a vibe, but this still felt pretty damn good. 

Especially coupled with the sticky heat he was bringing to the whole thing.  They’d kicked the blanket off, but the backs of her legs were still sweating where they were pressed against him.  His chest felt hot on her back.    

“Fuck…you are so beautiful…I want you to come…will you come for me?”  His thumb rubbed roughly at her clit and she was.  Coming.  Hard. 

“Fuck…Pietro…” she moaned, her walls clenching around his fingers as he pumped them in and out of her.

She felt her muscles relax as he pulled his fingers out, leaving her underwear a slippery wet mess. He sucked his fingers into his mouth, releasing them with a pop.  His hips were still rolling towards her, grinding his erection into her ass. 

She rolled onto her back, reaching for the drawstring of his pajama pants.  She undid them, reaching inside and wrapping her hand around his cock, hard and leaking.  He jumped slightly before letting his head fall to the crook of her shoulder. 

She ran her thumb over the slit, her pussy clenching a little, still hyper-sensitive. 

His breath was ragged, his hips still pumping shallowly as she used what was there to slick her hand.

“That’s going to make a mess…” he whimpered as she slid her hand up his entire length. 

“Want me to stop?” 

“Fuck no…don’t stop…” 

She started out slowly, squeezing on the ascent and running her thumb over the head on the descent.

He grunted softly into her neck, both arms wrapped around her as she steadily stroked him, gradually increasing her speed until he was moaning softly and whispering in her ear, “Like that…just like that…don’t stop…Darcy…Darcy…” 

She twisted her hand a little, which made him get a little louder, hips still bucking in time with her hand.

“Fuck…yes…like that…God, Darcy, keep doing that…I’m close…I’m close…” 

She moaned a little, rubbing her thighs together as his breath caught and his rhythm became erratic.  She felt the hot evidence of his release flowing over the top of her fist, all over the inside of his pants, and she slowed to an eventual stop, pulling her hand out carefully. 

She looked at it, wrinkling her nose before wiping it on his pants. 

He chuckled dryly, “Thanks…” 

Darcy grinned, sitting up so he could get up without too much trouble.  He jetted to the bathroom, and she heard the water running as the pants flew out the door into the hamper. 

“Can I trouble you for a pair of underwear?” he asked.  She got up, walked over to his dresser and pulled out a pair, holding them into the open door.  She felt a little awkward, she’d just given him a hand job, but hadn’t seen his dick yet, so she wasn’t sure what the boundaries were…

He came back out of the bathroom, everything somehow tucked into a pair of boxer briefs as he crossed the floor, walking over to the futon and unfolding it so it laid flat. He laid down, adjusting the blankets.  “Say…aren’t you a little overdressed?” he arched an eyebrow. 

“Well, I wasn’t sure about the dress code…” 

“It is…eh…casual,” he waggled his hand vaguely.    

“Like…nudist colony casual or…” 

He rummaged under the sheets, pulling off his underwear and dropping it on the floor. He folded his arms smugly. 

She mirrored his expression, “I still have not seen any of the goods, Maximoff.  Don’t think you’re gonna get a free striptease…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? Please? They feed the muses. <3


	11. Out of My Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay! They're doing it in this chapter!
> 
> Hooray! Hooray!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to heyfrenchfreudiana for beta reading this for me. And to miin for advice and idea bouncing. :D

“How much is my absence worth?” Wade winked as he took a sip of coffee. 

Pietro sighed in annoyance, “Isn’t it enough that I’m suggesting that you…go stay with my sister for the weekend?  Do I have to pay for your sex romp too?” 

“Don’t look at it as paying for my sex romp…look at it as…buying a whole romantic weekend alone for you and Darcy.  And you guys can do it all over the apartment.  I mean…within reason.  And please know that I’m going to require you to sanitize everything either of your bare asses touch.” 

Pietro rolled his eyes, “Whatever. Fine.  How much is this costing me?” 

“A pittance. Gimme a C note.” 

“One hundred dollars?  That is way more than gas…you’re only traveling twenty-five miles!”

“Fifty for the round trip.  And I have the gas covered.  This hundred is so I can take Wanda out.  You want your sister to have a wonderful date, don’t you?” Wade grinned smugly. 

“I couldn’t care less.”

“Look.  A hundred bucks, and I’m out of your hair for two whole days.  You can’t get two nights in a decent hotel for that.” 

Pietro sighed and pulled out his wallet.  “Fine…” He counted out five twenties and pressed them into Wade’s hand.  “But you’re gone.” 

“Yes.  Gone by the time she gets back from her show.” 

“Good.  Thank you.” 

Pietro walked out of the kitchen and slouched down on the couch in the living room, excited butterflies forming in the pit of his stomach as he thought about what two days alone with Darcy would entail.

He really hoped sex. Lots and lots of sex. Well, it didn’t have to be a LOT per se…but a nominal amount would be nice.  Any would be nice. 

Anything that didn’t send him back to his room with blue balls and a dick so hard he could hammer nails.

Which, in and of itself, would describe any day in the last three weeks.  Any day since New Year’s, which was the last and only time they’d done anything sexual.  

There had been too many people in the house for the past few weeks, but Wanda was back at her home. Wade’s work schedule was getting back to normal…and classes were back in session, and by extension, Darcy’s radio show. Which meant she was doubly stressed…

So, in short, no one was getting any. 

Not him.  Not Darcy.  And not Wade, who had stupidly started dating Wanda, who lived 25 miles away and worked nights. 

So it wasn’t exactly the friendliest atmosphere. 

Hopefully that would change this weekend. 

He folded his hands on his stomach.  Contentedly waiting for her show to start.  He hoped she would be as excited about this as he was. 

* * *

 

She wasn’t. 

“I just…can’t believe you’d DO that, Piet.  I mean…you didn’t even CALL Wanda to find out if it was what SHE wanted!  What if SHE didn’t want to spend the whole weekend with Wade, huh?  Did you ever think of that, when you were…making all these decisions without even consulting…her?” 

He blinked, confused.  What exactly had happened?  What had he done wrong here? 

“I figured since she and Wade were already riding the hobby horse, she wouldn’t mind a booty call weekend…” Pietro replied flatly.  “You on the other hand, do NOT seem thrilled with the prospect of me all weekend long.” 

“No, that’s not it at all…” Darcy said defensively.  “I ADORE that idea, can’t wait to start. No…what I’m worried about is…Wanda and Wade.  What if they aren’t ready for a weekend alone?” 

He took a deep breath, suddenly seeing where this was going and feeling stupid for not realizing it sooner.  He blamed his excessive need to masturbate lately.   

“You know…I don’t think this is about Wanda and Wade…I think it’s about Pietro and Darcy…” he said slowly.  Calmly. 

She scoffed.  Loudly.  “NO…no, it’s not either. This…whole…thing you’ve got going on…” she gestured towards him.  “I can’t WAIT to climb that…Climb you like a fucking TREE, Maximoff…I just—“

He cut her off, “Really?  You’re ready for this? Wanna climb me?  Climb away…” he tugged his t-shirt up and over his head.  “Touch me…” he ran his hand over his abs.  “I worked out today.  They’re REALLY hard…” 

She reached out, still well more than an arm’s length away from him, her hand shaking as she moved forward.  Her fingertips had barely grazed him when he exhaled roughly, pushing her arm away.  “Stop, just…stop…shirt’s going back on…” 

“It’s not like that, Piet…You…you’re hot.  You’re fucking gorgeous…” 

He snorted, “I know…you think I don’t know that?”  It came out a little more arrogant than he would have liked, but there it was.    

She pressed her lips tightly together.  “I know you do…but I mean, that’s just it, you know?  You’re insanely hot.  Like…” she paused, gesturing wildly with her arms.  “All muscly and handsome and you’ve got that accent and not to mention you’re super cute and dreamy and the stuff fucking ROMANCE NOVEL COVERS are made of…and…and…” 

He pulled down on the hem of his shirt, searching her downturned face.  “And what?” he asked, a little more gently than before. 

“And I’m…me.  I’m just…me.  You know?  I’m worried that you’ve been crushing on me for so long that you don’t see it yet.  But I’m just…lumpy oatmeal compared to you.  You’re a track star, you RUN competitively for fuck’s sake.  Do you know the last time I ran?  Wanna venture a guess?” 

“You are not lumpy oatmeal…” he said firmly. 

“Guess when I ran last.” 

“I don’t care.” 

“Exactly!” she said, clapping her hands for effect.  “I Don’t CARE.  I don’t care about running or working out.  I’m not ever going to look like I belong with you.  And I’m worried that…you’re going to realize that and think that this has all been a big mistake and you’re going to end it and I’m just gonna be left here…lumpy and horrible and thrown away…and I’m sorry I haven’t…responded to your…propositions. It’s not because I don’t want you. Because fuck me, I want you…” She ran her eyes up and down his frame appraisingly, biting her bottom lip before continuing.  “But I wanted to prolong this part for as long as I could because…” she sniffed, a fat tear rolling down her cheek. 

He reached out to brush it away, cupping her cheek in his hand afterward.  “Because you thought I’d get bored and leave?”  She nodded and he tilted her face up to look into her eyes.  “Darcy, I could never get bored with you…” 

“You don’t know that, though…you haven’t seen me naked yet…” 

“Not completely…but you forget that I’ve seen the ladies.  Saw them the first day I met you…and every time I close my eyes and imagine them.  Which, I confess, is quite often…” he closed his eyes for effect.  “I’m doing it right now…” he grinned.  She swatted his shoulder and he grabbed her hand, pulling her close.  “And uh…even if you didn’t possess the single greatest pair of boobs I have ever seen…how could I ever be bored with you around?  You’re funny.  You’re smart.  You’re fun to talk to…all of that.  And you might possibly be the most beautiful woman in the world.” 

She blushed and looked down.  “You don’t know that.” 

“Most beautiful woman in my world,” he corrected, leaning down to nuzzle her cheek.  “I was bored with those other women. They weren’t for me…yes, they were pretty.  They were attractive…but they aren’t YOU, and that’s why they bored me. Darcy…I like looking at you, talking with you, laughing with you…just BEING with you is enough.”

She pressed her face against his shoulder. 

“And as far as belonging with me…I’ve already stated that you are the most beautiful woman in the world…” 

“In your world.” 

“Shh. Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen…so of course you belong with me.  I’m the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen…” he grinned and she shook her head. 

“Oh, right…there’s that arrogance…” 

“You like it…” he teased. 

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t…” she slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight. 

He returned the embrace, stroking her back lightly. “And if this is all you want right now…that is FINE.  Because this isn’t just about sex for me, okay?”

“Okay…” she looked up at him, leaning up on her tiptoes to reach him better.  Her lips pressing against his for a long moment.  “It’s not all about sex.  We’ve said that.” 

“Right.” 

“So if we HAVE sex, it’s just…for kicks, right?” 

He swallowed, “Right.” 

“Okay…” she licked her lips.  “Let’s get our kicks, then.”   

“Oh, thank god…” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her.  Lips pressing gently against hers.  He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of feeling them.  Soft and plump and so fucking kissable.  She pulled at his, teeth nibbling just a little on his bottom lip.  Enough to make his lips part. Just a little.  Just enough for the tip of her tongue to dart through.  “Unh…I would have waited as long as you wanted, but…I’m so fucking happy you—“ 

“Pietro, shut up…” she pressed her lips against his firmly and he couldn’t do anything but oblige her.  She parted her lips slightly, hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, tugging it and making him grunt into her mouth.  The action sent bolts of sensation right down to his cock, but he didn’t want to rut against her just because she tugged on his hair, so he tried to think of something else. 

But before he knew it, she was pressed against the wall and his mouth was on her neck and his hips were rolling against her, pressing his rapidly hardening dick right into her hip. 

Her breath was hot, right in his ear.  Her hand slid down, grabbing the fleshy part of his ass and grinding herself right back against him.  “That would do more good a little more to the left…” 

He reached down, grabbing her leg behind her knee and centering himself as he ground against her again.  He held her gaze, and she hooked her leg behind his back, panting softly as he pressed his erection firmly against her heat.  Her warmth.  God, she felt like she was scorching, even through her clothes. 

“We need to try to—ohhh—“ her sentence fell off as he leaned in to suck on her earlobe.  “—go in one of the rooms to—fffuck…keep doing that…”  he chuckled and hoisted her up on his front. 

“We can definitely go into one of the rooms to fuck…” he teased, walking them over to her door.  She swatted his shoulder.    

He kneed the door open, crossing the room and carefully laying Darcy back on her bed. He braced his knee beside her, leaning over to kiss her perfect lips again.  He worked his way down, trying to ignore the pressing need in his jeans.  The red hot desire that surged through his veins unchecked.  He’d spent so long trying to curb that desire that it was almost overwhelming when he was able to let it go and not stop. 

The sounds she was making were spurring him on.  Soft, breathy moans when he trailed kisses down her collarbone.  She rucked up her t-shirt, pulling it up and off her head.  He worked on her pants, desperate to see her.  Smell her.  Taste her…

She wriggled out of her jeans, kicking them off onto the floor.  He unbuttoned his, pushing them down and off with his underwear. 

“Whoa…” she raised her eyebrows, her eyes about two towns south of eye contact.  “Congratulations.”

“Thank…you?” he fumbled in the pocket of his jeans for the condom he’d been keeping there, tearing the foil and rolling it down his length as she pushed down her panties, baring herself to him for the first time. 

She kept trying to cover herself, looking anywhere but at him.  He reached down to gently move her hand, pulling it up for a kiss as he bent over her.  She spread her legs, propping her feet on the mattress as he lowered himself between them. 

The head of his cock rubbed slickly through her folds, her heat felt so inviting.  He couldn’t think about anything but burying himself inside.  He held back, watching instead as he rubbed it over her opening, the head disappearing inside for a moment before popping back out again. He grunted when he felt her walls clench a little around him. 

“Piet…” she whispered, her legs coming up to wrap around his waist, trying to pull him closer.  “I want you…” 

“You’re…ohh…you’re ready?” He wanted to make sure…wanted it to be good for her…god, he wanted that more than he wanted to be inside her.    

She nodded, pulling him down to kiss him as he slowly entered her. He felt her walls clench around his girth, and he broke off the kiss to check in.  “Still good?” 

“Yes…so good…” 

He pulled back, his eyes almost rolling back in his head when he thrust forward again.  “ _Ježišmarjá,”_ he gasped, slowly increasing his speed, trying to find a rhythm.  One she liked.  One he could work with.  Prop up with one hand, rub her clit with the other.  He wanted to feel her explode around him.

It crept up on him so quickly.  Like a traitorous backstabber. Utterly fucking up everything he was planning. He was just getting started when his orgasm exploded from the base of his spine and his stomach tightened and his cock twitched inside her. His legs quivered with the intensity of it.  “Fuck…fuck…I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to come yet…I am so sorry…” 

His face flushed and he felt like pulling out and running from the room, but that wouldn’t exactly be the most mature thing to do right now.

Her eyes were wide, shocked.  “Did you?  Already?” 

He panted, dropping his head to her shoulder, “Fuck…I’m so sorry…I promise that never happens…it’s never happened before, Darcy…fuck…” He gulped.  Swallowing what little pride he had left.  He pulled out, standing on shaky legs to go dispose of the condom.  He pulled it off, walking into the bathroom to throw it in the trash.  He avoided his own reflection, dreading the walk back into the other room. 

She’d covered up, pulling a sheet up and over her lower body. 

“Didn’t even get my bra off…” she said, in awe. 

He sighed heavily and reached for his underwear. 

“You know…you said you held speed records in track, but APPARENTLY--“ 

“Darcy…” he fell backwards across her bed, across her legs, his head hanging upside down off the edge of the bed. 

“I’m sorry.  But I get ONE, one stamina jab.  And that was it.  Just because you know…I didn’t get a chance to—“ 

“I’m not done yet…” 

“Are you sure?  I’m pretty sure that blowing your load means it’s over.” 

He turned to look at her.  “I’m not selfish.”

“Didn’t say you were.” 

He rolled over to lay beside her, “I am so sorry…tell me what you want…Darcy, anything and I’ll do it.” 

“Piet, really…it’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not.  It’s really fucking not.”

“We have the whole weekend.  I can wait for the Little Sergeant to come back.” 

He arched an eyebrow, “Excuse me…’Sergeant’? I thought you congratulated me. He’s a General.  A Colonel.” 

“I did congratulate you.  And then you blew your load after two minutes, so yeah.  He’s a Sergeant until he gets promoted.” 

He sighed.  “Fair enough…” He leaned down to kiss her neck.  “Now…what can I do for you? I have a few other worthwhile appendages that you might be interested in.”

She hummed, turning towards him.  “Well, I know you’re good with your hands…” 

He let his fingertips explore around under the blanket, brushing against her thighs.  Her hipbones.  Waist. 

He mouthed over her collarbone, trailing one hand up to unhook her bra.  He tugged the black lacy garment away, tossing it onto the floor with the rest of their clothes. 

“Ah…my old friends…” he teased, glancing up at her before leaning down to take one stiff nipple into his mouth.

“You can’t…personify my breasts…” she panted, jumping a little when he swirled his tongue. 

“You personified my dick.” He switched to the other side, fingertips still tracing designs against her inner thighs. 

“Yes, I did…” she acquiesced, throwing her head back as he steadily licked and teased her nipples.  “Fuck…you are good at that…” 

He dragged his fingers up her thighs towards her heat, tracing along her outer lips, still slick enough for him to glide between, lightly teasing her fevered flesh.  Her hips twitched.  Bucking up towards him as she spread her knees apart. 

She groaned, trying to rub herself against his fingers.  Needing the friction.

He rose up on his knees and began kissing down from her breasts.  Trailing kisses the whole way down her torso.  Settling between her legs as he began to lick where his fingers were teasing. 

She arched her back, pushing her hips towards him as he steadily flicked her clit with the tip of his tongue.  She moaned his name, playing with her own breasts.  Lightly twisting her nipples.  Rasping out a “yes…” when he tentatively slid two fingers inside her.    

She pressed herself steadily against his mouth and his hand and he gave her everything she needed because he wasn’t here to tease.  He was here to turn her into a quivering puddle of pleasure.  He could tease her any other time.  Not now, though. 

Not when she was moaning his name so loudly that he was glad he’d sent Wade away because there was no way she wasn’t audible all over the house. 

Fuck, the neighbors might be able to hear her. 

He didn’t fucking care. Let them hear.  Because he was responsible for those sounds and that made him feel so…

“Unh…god…Pietro…” she gasped as he felt her clenching around his fingers, clenching and then fluttering and her hips were moving against his mouth and the heady scent of her was all he could smell.  So he slowed down little by little, bringing her down and holding off when it was too much, when she pushed back on his forehead and he smirked up at her before licking his lips. 

Her cheeks were red, lips parted, her eyes bright and her hair was starting to curl a little from the heat they were generating. 

“Was that good for you?” he asked. 

Her only reply was to fall back on the pillows and squirm around a little before proclaiming, “GOD,” and reaching for him to yank him up for a kiss.  “That SO made up for before…” 

He smiled, leaning down against her neck.  I’m glad…”

She turned slightly, tangling them together just so…and it was like they were puzzle pieces.  Fitting perfectly against each other, kicking off the blanket because they were both sweating. 

He shifted a little more to keep from hanging off the edge.  “Your bed is too small.” 

“Yeah?  Well, yours isn’t a bed. And it isn’t a couch either.” 

“That’s a mean thing to say. It’s doing its best.  It’s being both.” 

“Usually things that try to be two things suck at being both things.” 

“Are you saying you don’t like my futon?” 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! :D :D :D


	12. Call It Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Omg, I'm so sorry. I'm the worst. I promise I haven't forgotten about this. PROMISE. 
> 
> This chapter's kind of a filler chapter, but I'm setting up for something, and you get a hint of it at the end. :) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this! Introducing a new character and a few other things as well. :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by the always wonderful, heyfrenchfreudiana

"But here's the thing..." Wade insisted.  "You're already practically LIVING together.  I mean...you guys switch back and forth between rooms, but you're together every single night." 

Darcy sighed.  This again. 

Pietro scoffed.  "It's not EVERY night.  I mean...sometimes...SOMETIMES I..."  He trailed off, frowning.  "Some nights we don't sleep in the same..." 

Darcy patted his shoulder, time to tap him out, because they did actually sleep in the same bed every night.  But that in no way meant they lived _together_.  Because.  Reasons.  Okay?  Reasons.  Just because she didn’t have the middle of the false equation didn’t mean it wasn’t false.  If x was them sleeping in the same bed and y was them living in the same apartment…there was some other variable at play because x and y did not equal z.  Which was living _together_.

And they said she wasn’t good at math. 

"It's not the same as living together, Wade.  We can leave at any time.  If I were to get annoyed with him, I could go back to my room, or he could go back to his.  If we were living together, we wouldn't be able to do that."

Ha-ha. There.  The unknown variable was the ability to NOT sleep in the same room.  Two rooms existed.  Two closets.  Two…laundry hampers.  They still did their laundry separately.   

Wade rolled his eyes dramatically.  "Name one night where you've done that. One night where you’ve slept in separate rooms since you’ve been doing it.” 

Darcy faltered.  “Well…there hasn’t been an instance where I got annoyed with him.” 

 “I call major pile of donkey shit.  I've seen you.  You think I don't see it, but I do.  You get annoyed with him and then he crawls over with the puppy dog eyes and apologizes and then it's squeaky bedsprings until midnight. Hee-Haw, motherfuckers." 

"I am NOT always the one apologizing..."  Pietro argued. 

Wade made a face, reaching over to pat his arm sympathetically.  "Okay, if you say so, Buddy." 

"He isn't.  I apologize too." 

"Yeah.  Just last night, she apologized for eating my yogurt….” He offered.    

"And then, you accepted her apology by eating her--" 

"ALRIGHT.  What is your point?" Pietro interjected.

"He doesn't have one..."  Darcy waved her hand flippantly and leaned back on the couch. 

"I do so have one.  You guys are definitely fine relationship-wise to move in together officially, which will free up one of the rooms and then--" 

And then Wade could move in his friend.  Rat or Possum or something.

“Pietro and I haven’t talked about this yet…” 

“So talk.  What is there to talk about?  Like I said, it’s literally what you were doing already.” 

She sputtered.  “You’re kind of putting us on the spot here…” 

“Look.  He needs a room, okay?  He’s about to get kicked out of his place.” 

"We don't EVEN know this guy..." she complained.  "I've never even heard you mention a guy named 'Possum' before." 

"WEASEL!!!"  Wade emphasized.  "WEASEL.  You guys never listen to me when I talk about my friends.  Look.  He’s good for the rent. He tends bar."

“Well, why did he get kicked out then?”    

There was the sound of a throat clearing out in the kitchen, "Wade...you know...this might not be the best time for--" 

Darcy and Pietro looked at each other and back to Wade. 

"He's here? Right now?" Pietro craned his neck to look out in the kitchen. 

"We were TALKING about him..." Darcy shout-whispered.  "That's so RUDE." 

"Right?  You guys are terrible.  Weasel, come meet your new housemates..." 

"Wade...Wade...this isn't..." the new guy was protesting, even as Wade slipped his arm around his shoulders. 

"Guys...guys...this is Weasel.  You've heard me talking about him." 

"No.  No, we literally haven't..." Darcy protested. 

"Well.  You would have.  If you paid attention to me..." he sniffed. 

"We literally wouldn't have.  Because you've never mentioned him." 

"Regardless.  Think of how much less our rent will be if he moves in.  He could take Pietro's room; Pietro could move into your room...we'd split the rent four ways..."

_Oh hell no._

"Wait..." Darcy said.  "Wait.  Piet and I would HYPOTHETICALLY be sharing a room and we still have to pay the same as either of you two?" 

"And we’d have to share a bathroom with the new guy? Hypothetically?" Pietro protested.  "No offense, Raccoon." 

"Weasel..." he corrected him quietly.  "And none taken." 

"Yeah...YEAH..." Darcy pointed an accusatory finger at Wade.  "If we're HYPOTHETICALLY sharing a room, we should have the master bedroom." 

"NO.  No way..." Wade shook his head.  "No fucking way, Buttercup." 

"That's the only way this is fair..." Pietro countered.  "I would have no problem splitting the rent four ways if we have the bigger bedroom. Hypothetically."

Darcy nodded to confirm.  “Hypothetically.” 

“Okay then.  Hypothetically…deal’s off.  You’re right.  You guys…not ready for cohabitation…Weasel.  You can have the couch.  Indefinitely…” 

“Wait a minute, wait a minute, Wade.  That’s not fair.  Look.  You can’t…PUT us on the spot like that.  We haven’t even said that we…that we…lll…” she trailed off. 

“’Llllook at each other while the other is sleeping’…” Pietro filled in, smirking. 

“Right.  That.  We haven’t said that to each other.  I haven’t TOLD Pietro that I ‘look at him while he’s sleeping’.  While that doesn’t make it any less true…” she turned towards him.  “We haven’t officially said it yet.” 

“And I…I also ‘look at Darcy while she’s sleeping’.  But. I wouldn’t TELL her that at this juncture of our relationship…” Pietro added. 

Wade was frowning, looking between the two of them.  “You guys are weird.  Creeping on each other at night. Do you take shifts or…???” 

Darcy closed her eyes.  “It’s a metaphor.” 

“Everything isn’t a metaphor, John Green.”

 “Look.  It’s just not cool of you to pressure us like this. I wouldn’t mind living with Pietro, but we haven’t discussed it.  And it’s a little out of order…” 

“Who says it’s out of order?” Pietro asked, puffing out his chest. 

“Ummm, Idk?  The relationship expert powers that be?  Pretty sure we should be…admitting that we ‘look at the other one sleeping’ before we shack up.”

“If you wouldn’t mind…and I definitely don’t mind…why should we care?” 

“Uh…” she shrugged. “I dunno?” 

“So do you want to?” he asked, reaching for her hand. 

Her heart was thudding in her chest and she really didn’t want to have this moment in front of Wade and MouseRatPossum here…but…Alice had just moved in with Bruce.  They’d been officially dating for about two and a half months.  Just slightly longer than she and Pietro.  And she and Pietro technically already lived together.  So how different could this be? 

“Yeah…” she grinned.  “I do want to. That would be…nice.  And altogether the same as what we’re doing now.  Albeit…in the bigger room.” She smirked over at Wade.          

"That actually DOES seem fair..." Weasel interjected. 

"Hey.  HEY.  Dude, I vouched for you..." Wade hissed. 

"Yeah, yeah...so, we get the bigger bedroom or no deal..." Darcy crossed her arms. 

"No.  NO.  I'm not giving up my room." 

"Let's vote?”  Pietro suggested.  “We live in a democracy, no?” 

“NO.  We live in a Republic.  So if the two of you want to nominate some drain hair to represent you at the vote, be my guest…”

“Yeah, let’s have a vote…” Darcy deftly ignored Wade and crossed her arms over her stomach. 

"That's not fair.  You're both going to vote against me…”

“Well…Weasel can vote too…” she offered.    

"Fine." 

"FINE." 

"All in favor of me and Pietro getting the big room?"  Darcy and Pietro both raised their hands. 

Weasel's came up with them. 

"Weasel. WEASEL." Wade protested.    

He shrugged.  "I need a place...and it seems fair?" 

Wade rolled his eyes, letting his head fall back as he stared straight up into the ceiling.  "Fine.  Fine.  You guys can have the big room.  The big room with its own bathroom and a whirlpool." 

"THERE'S A WHIRLPOOL?"  Darcy sputtered. 

"Maybe.  Okay.  Yes?  Yes, there's a whirlpool, alright?" 

"I feel so betrayed..." Pietro shook his head. 

"Yeah, well.  Now you can cuddle on your futon in your huge room and fuck in your whirlpool bathtub." 

Darcy wrinkled her nose.  "I don't want to sleep on a futon." 

"Well, we're not sleeping on your tiny twin bed…" Pietro scoffed. “My ass gets cold when it hangs over the abyss.” 

“So don’t fold yourself up in a ball to sleep…”   

Wade exhaled loudly. "You're going to have to move one of them, because my king sized bed is going to be a tight squeeze anyway." 

She raised her eyebrows, "OR..." 

Wade shook his head, "NO." 

"OR..." 

"You're not keeping my bed..." 

* * *

 

"Darcy...are we done yet?"  Pietro whined, leaning forward on the handle of the shopping cart. She was scribbling down the serial number for the dresser they were picking up for Wade.  There was already a wide assortment of things in the cart.  Many that they hadn’t even come in for.  Darcy was thanking the powers that be for financial aid. Ikea was a huge vacuum cleaner that sucked up cash and the contents of bank accounts.

"NO.  I have to find a mattress cover."

Wade’s mattress.  A blessing and a curse.  Because on one hand, free, barely used mattress.  On the other.  It was WADE’S barely used mattress.   

"You have been sunning the thing in 80-degree weather.  I think it'll be sufficiently de-Waded,” he assured her. 

"PIETRO, he didn't have SHEETS.  He probably slept NAKED on that bare mattress.  He and your sister probably had sex on that bare mattress…" Darcy was pretty sure there were things that no amount of sunning, or even fumigating would erase from that mattress.

He coughed, "Right.  So mattress cover...probably this way…did you get the number for the dresser?" 

"Yes.  The _Kullen._ "

“Why are we buying him a dresser, again?” 

She sighed.  It had been a small price to pay, all things considering.  “Because.  He let us have his bed and the master bedroom with the whirlpool in the bathroom.  Which reminds me…we need to stop by the grocery store on the way home for some bleach.”    

“Okay…he threw the BIGGEST fit in the world. Darcy.  DARCY.  I’ve seen some big fits, I used to date rich white girls? I have seen some fits.”

She snorted.  “You don’t have to tell me, I got to witness one first hand and in my face…” 

“Oh…right.  So…bleach?  We need bleach?  Noted.” 

She spotted the mattress covers, tossing a memory foam one into the cart, she steered them towards the warehouse before she bought anything else. 

This was actually kind of fun?  Shopping for domestic-type things.  Well.  Domestic-type things and a large stuffed dog from the kids’ section.  Like.  He was huge.  And named Sir Malachy III. For no other reason than that’s what he looked like to her.  

"Are we not going to talk about the fact that we decided to live together?" asked Pietro.   “I mean, we talked about it a little earlier…but…” 

"Sir Malachy III is much obliged.  He was sick of the meatball smell.”  Darcy scooped him up and made him paw at Pietro’s shoulder. 

He smirked and took the dog from her.  “As long as he doesn’t watch when we do it, he has a home…”  He placed him back in the cart.  “Are you okay about this?” 

“Are YOU okay about this?” 

“Absolutely.  But I asked you first.” 

She leaned up to kiss him.  "I'm not a very decisive person. I can't even pick out cereal.  But this. This was easier than picking out cereal.  Is it a mistake?  Possibly.  Did we jump into this too soon?”  She shrugged, “Definitely.  But.  You can’t make an omelet without…“ she trailed off. 

“Cracking eggs,” he finished for her. 

“Cheese,” she countered.  “And we have plenty of cheese.” 

“I have cheese in abundance, _Princeza_.” He smirked. 

She tugged him down by his shirt collar and kissed him again.  "Okay.  Okay.  Good talk.  In the middle of Ikea.  I mean...we haven't even said that we lll..."  she trailed off, catching his eye again. 

"That we llll....like the same music?  Or that we lllllive to play frisbee golf?  Or that we llllllllinger too long in Ikea?" 

“Totally.  All of those. And then some, because well, if you can still..." she swallowed thickly.  "’Look at me while I’m sleeping’ after we've done the Ikea thing...then maybe it's made to last."    

"So.  What made you realize?" he asked nonchalantly. “You know, what made you realize you…you know?” 

"That I ‘like the same music as you’?" She giggled, “You mean you don’t know why?”    

"Hey.  I need to know if my affections will be returned...I'm nervous." 

"Okay, look.  If I didn't...’you know’.  Then I wouldn't have let you try that thing that I let you try in the shower." 

"Which thing?  We've done many things in the shower..."

They really had.  Looking at that pink shower poof in the cart was bringing back a few recent memories.  That involved some rather inventive ways to stimulate some sensitive areas.  

She shot him a look.  "You know which thing." 

His eyebrows shot up in realization.  "I am not worthy of you." 

"No.  But as long as you're aware of it, we're good." 

"I'm very aware, don't worry..." he hip-checked her before continuing in the direction of the warehouse. 

They found the _Kullen_ with some difficulty. It took an hour in the warehouse.  Even though Darcy had copied the serial numbers exactly.

But, they were still grinning and joking around with each other when it was their turn to check out. Darcy was feeling a little better about this.  They’d just…do their thing.  Not worry about the order of operations or whether or not they could say that they loved each other or not.  PEMDAS could suck it.  She was happy.  Pietro was happy.  They were getting a bigger bedroom.  And they’d survived IKEA…this was going really REALLY well. 

Their smiles fell from their faces when they saw who was behind the counter. 

Lexie.  In all her bleached blonde glory.  She smiled.  Forced.  In a way that made Darcy fear for her very life.  Like maybe she was going to murder her and grind her up into the famous Ikea meatballs or something. 

Of fucking COURSE Lexie worked at Ikea. 

Darcy stared at her hands while she rung them up.  Pietro was pretty much just trying to disappear into the floor.  Hoping it would swallow him up. 

Darcy slid the card through the swiper thing.  At least she wasn’t trying to engage them.   

"So...you guys are living together now?"  Lexie asked. Her voice sounded dry and emotionless. 

"Well...I mean...we did before..." Pietro muttered. 

Darcy turned to stare at him.  "Um.  Yeah. Yeah, we are." 

"That's cute..."  Lexie jammed their sheets into the bag.  Both sets.  Their memory foam cover too.  "That's really cute." The rest of the stuff they’d purchased.  One item after another. 

_FLOP.  FLOP.  FLOP._

She couldn’t tear her eyes away.  It was hypnotic.  The hatred in Lexie’s eyes and the angry way she jammed their stuff into bags.  Coupled with the dull expression on her face.  It was like modern art or something.    

"Thanks..." Darcy took the bag from her and Pietro hefted the _Kullen_ under his arm, both of them desperate to get out of the store as quickly as possible. 

They could feel her eyes on them the whole time they were leaving. 

"That...that was creepy..." Pietro whispered, hoisting the box up again.  "And I am wishing I took the cart now.  But I needed to be able to move…I thought maybe I could throw this at her if she tried to attack again." 

Darcy chuckled and led him out to the car.  He stuffed the _Kullen_ into the backseat and spun around, pulling her into his arms. She let him, sighing deeply against his t-shirt. 

"Aww...did Lexie freak you out?" he asked, his hand in her hair as he tilted her head back.   

"A little?  I don't want to become an Ikea meatball...so can we split?" 

He snorted, "Fine...yes, let's go, my little meatball." 

"If anyone's a meatball, it's you...ya meatball." 

"I'm a meathead.  Get it right." 

"What makes you a meathead?" 

"I have a head.  Two of them."  He waggled his eyebrows.  “You’re familiar with them both, I think.”    

"And you also have balls.  So..." 

"Fine.  I’m the meathead with the meatballs and you’re my _princeza_. Are you happy?" 

"Ecstatic." 

* * *

 

Lexie chewed on her nail and scanned the food court again.  Her break was almost over and she couldn’t see him anywhere. 

A flurry of movement over to her left caught her attention.  There he was.  Waving her over with one hand, a fork with a speared meatball in the other. 

She sighed, rolling her eyes and making her way over to the table where he was sitting. 

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting…” He had thankfully set down the fork.  After working here for almost three years, she was sick to death of the stupid meatballs.  Watching someone she didn’t even really want to interact with eat them was NOT her idea of a fun lunch break. 

She shrugged.  “Whatever.  Listen…Ian, is it?” 

He nodded once, taking a sip of his drink. “Boothby.”   

“Right…well, I don’t know why you wanted to talk about this, but I’m really trying to move on?  I mean, they obviously want to be together, and—“ 

“And that’s all well and good.  They can be together. I don’t particularly want to be with Darcy anymore, as well I’m sure you don’t want to be with HIM anymore. All I’m suggesting is that we get them back for humiliating us.  Karma, you know?” He smirked. 

“I’m pretty sure Karma isn’t something you have to help along…” 

“Fine.  Good old fashioned revenge, then.” 

She had to admit.  Humiliating Darcy sounded pretty damn good.  She’d destroyed Lexie’s nicest extensions in that fight.  Not to mention, everyone was giving her that look.  The look that you gave someone after they got their ass kicked.  The “I-feel-sorry-for-you-but-I-also-think-you-kind-of-deserved-it” look.  It had been two months.  It was time to wipe that look off their faces. 

“Okay.  What did you have in mind?” 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos? (Think of the muses!) ;)


	13. Still a Cobra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. Sorry guys. It's been so long. 
> 
> And then I come back with this chapter. And a newly shortened fic length. (Down from 20 to 14 chapters in the total) 
> 
> There will be one more chapter where I tie up all the loose ends, and that's gonna be it for this fic, I think. 
> 
> Idk. This wasn't really the direction I wanted to go, I wanted to do more with Pietro...but after the trolling incident way back in March or April, I just...couldn't get into this fic again. It was one of the biggest ones targeted by the troll, so now I don't love this as much as I used to. And I'm truly sorry about that. I just feel like I need to end this, so I can move on. Start anew. 
> 
> But I've cobbled together a working sort of ending that will take me two chapters to complete. And that's kind of what I need to do right now. So. Without a further wait...since I've made y'all wait too long as it is, here's the first part of the ending. It kind of sets us up for the very last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I actually used to work at a radio station a few years back (four years ago to be exact). And I did a lot of voice work for local commercials and things like that...so...if some of this seems a little dated...it's because it is. And you know what? 
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> So, if any of you work in radio and notice that maybe I've gotten something wrong or whatever...let's just...sit on it. Just. Shhhhhhhh. Let's go with...it's a university station and maybe their equipment isn't as great as the top of the line stuff they have in radio stations now. We cool? 
> 
> YAY, let's get to it. ;)

Growing up, Darcy’s dad had always told her that Lewises were like snakes.  When they get backed into a corner, they either strike like a cobra, or slither away like a grass snake.  And the most important thing?  They knew when to slither and when to strike. 

This was the night where Darcy did both.    

Looking back on this years later…it wasn’t the worst event in her life.  There were worse ones that happened later.  But up until this point…yeah.  It was the worst night of Darcy’s life.  Staring with a humiliating final radio show and ending with bruised knuckles and her head in the toilet, vowing never to drink margaritas again.

* * *

 

Everything was going wrong. 

Darcy sighed because STILL, her cues were fucked.  None of her sound effects were where she left them.  And she couldn’t do anything to change it because that would mean shutting down the system to save it.  And that would mean dead air. 

And misplaced sound cues were better than dead air…according to some douchebag who’d made the rules.    

So until she could sign off, it was one mislabeled cue after another.  It made for a funny show…of course…Darcy’s show wasn’t meant to be funny. 

Luckily, there was an end in sight.  Twenty minutes till sign off.

Of course, she wanted to punch a wall, because it was her last show of the semester.  Not only that, there were some executive big wigs here. They were in the booth with Natasha, her new producer.  They were looking to syndicate Darcy’s program on AM radio to the colleges all around the Dallas-Fort Worth area.  It was going to turn into job experience, six hours of credit each semester towards her degree, and most importantly: a paycheck.  Or it would have.  If the last three hours hadn’t happened and were just some horrible nightmare that she could wake up from. 

Seriously, Darcy was half-expecting to look down and find herself completely nude, sprout wings, and then fly away. 

Except nope.  Not a dream. Just all of her hopes, dreams and hard work crashing down around her ears. 

And there was nothing either she nor Natasha could do but sit there and help it along.  Yank at the unraveling threads.  Sledgehammer to the support beam.  Fucking pour the gasoline and light a match. 

Darcy was halfway between laughing maniacally and bursting into tears. 

She tried to keep a smile on her face and in her voice as she talked to her callers.  Gave them the best advice she could muster when she had sweat running down her back.  Pit-stains down to her hips.  Even her ass was sweating. 

The bad thing was…she fucking knew who’d done it. 

Because he was standing on the other side of the glass.  With her bewildered looking professor and a slew of her other classmates.  

She was going to be lucky to pass the stupid course.  And she could kiss her dreams of a regionally syndicated program goodbye.  With tongue.  And tears, because it was over.  Over for good. 

And it was all because of Ian-fucking-Boothby. 

Well, now that she thought about it…it wasn’t entirely Ian’s fault.  No, Darcy was stupid.  Naïve.  She’d never changed her computer passwords once.  And he’d probably had no problem signing in and switching around her cues on the studio’s computer.  Especially since he’d been the one to set them up. 

She’d really never pegged him for the vengeful type.  No matter how messy the breakup.

The second to last commercial break commenced, and she’d gone from wanting to launch herself through the glass to just running straight home after she signed off. 

But she couldn’t. 

There was going to be a wrap party.  Pietro and Wade were coming. Alice was coming…scratch that…was already HERE, glaring daggers into the back of Ian’s head like a good BFF/former producer. 

Pietro and Wade would have been here too, if Darcy hadn’t banished them to the quad for threatening to do embarrassing things like whoop and cheer when she gave advice.  She was second guessing that decision.  Because between the two of them, this whole Ian situation would have been dealt with before she signed off. 

Darcy’s was the last student show of the semester, given that her show aired live on Friday nights.  And the professors and department heads were throwing them this wrap party after sign off.  She didn’t even want to go.  She just wanted to grab Pietro and go home and let him help her forget this whole horrible evening.  The thought of his mouth and tongue _on_ her sounded like heaven.  As opposed to the hell of trying to explain why her show had sucked so hard tonight. 

Her last call was a girl with an easy problem.  Natasha was pitching her easy hits.  Probably because of the grueling nature of the last three hours. 

Darcy was able to fit her advice (sans any sensible sound effects) into the allotted four minutes before the last commercial break.  She gave a shorter than usual signoff, despite Natasha trying to prompt her to lengthen it. 

If she said any more than she did say, she’d have probably burst into tears. 

The on-air sign switched off, and Darcy dropped her headphones on the desk. 

She wanted to run.  Book it.  But she couldn’t.  That’s something a kid would do.  And Darcy…well…she was technically an adult.  And she needed to start acting like one.  The two radio station execs were staying for the wrap party, so she and Nat would have to do some hella damage control. 

Because like hell she was letting some scrawny bastard take this away from her.  She’d worked damn hard for this.  And Ian had done nothing this semester but steal her ideas and run off with all the applause and credit. 

So fuck him.  She was taking the high road.  At least until teachers and radio station execs and miscellaneous other more adulty-adults were out of earshot.

Natasha approached, reaching out with both arms for a hug.  It was a ruse, however…Natasha wasn’t a hugger.  This was a façade for the big wigs’ benefit. 

“What the fuck was that?  I thought you checked all the cues last night…” she hissed in her ear as she patted her back. 

“I _did_...” Darcy leaned back out of the hug and arched an eyebrow, looking pointedly towards where Ian was talking to their professor. 

Natasha’s eyes widened.  “Do you have proof?” 

“Of course not, but who else would have done it?” 

Nat shrugged and shook her head, her eyes locking on Ian. “He’s dead…or as good as…” 

“Tomorrow,” Darcy emphasized.  “Tonight, we’re all smiles.” 

Nat nodded tersely.  “All smiles.” 

* * *

 

And they were.  All smiles.  They even laughed at themselves a little bit.

Alice was very supportive, even going so far as to offer to slash Ian’s tires on her way out that night.  It was a tempting offer; Darcy wasn’t going to lie.   She had to decline, but Alice still stayed and offered up her insights whenever she could. 

Between the three of them, they managed to schmooze the execs.  They even earned a compliment from one of them on their ability to keep cool under pressure.  Of course, the other one chided them for being so ill-prepared for their final show.  So, it was kind of a draw. 

Their professor wanted a meeting on Monday, which gave her and Natasha the weekend to find proof of Ian’s involvement.  Natasha seemed to think she could get ahold of the security tapes for the studio around the time Darcy had supposedly “logged in” that day.  If they could, then they’d be golden. 

It just really sucked that they had to resort to espionage in order to keep from failing their class.  Especially when they hadn’t done anything wrong.   Darcy could only hope that AM 590 Talk Radio wouldn’t toss her to the gutter based on one bad show. 

By the time they caught up with their friends, most of the food was gone and people were slowly filtering out.  What was meant to be a relaxing little end-of-semester party actually turned out to be a stressful couple of hours of setting up their defense. 

Pietro knew something was up the second he saw Darcy.  He’d heard the show, of course.  A bunch of people were listening to it in the quad.  But he didn’t know that the mistakes were actually caused by malicious intent. 

Of course, Darcy filled him in the second she was able.  And then promptly had to sit on him to keep him from going after Ian on school property.

“I’ll break his nose…he can’t do that to you!” Pietro shot an evil glare at the back of his head. 

“Piet…not that I’m not flattered by your chivalry…because I am.  And not that I don’t want you to break Ian’s face…because I do.  But c’mon, Babe…you can’t do that here!  I’ll flunk the course for sure! Not to mention, you’ll get kicked off the track team!” 

“He’s not getting away with this…” Pietro muttered, but settled down into the chair Darcy had pushed him into. 

“No, he’s not.  But if we roll out here, fists a’blazin’…well, he’s _gonna_ get away with it.  And hell if I’m gonna exist in a world where Ian Boothby wins.  We’ve got 364 other days this year to give him hell.  Let’s sit tight today, okay?”

Pietro nodded, “Okay.”  He reached for her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.  “Are _you_ okay?” 

Darcy’s breath caught in her throat at the question.  Because no.  She wasn’t okay.  She didn’t like feeling like this.  Powerless.  She didn’t like being backed into a corner. 

This was one of those famous slither or strike situations. 

Unfortunately, she was pretty sure that she was supposed to be a grass snake now…and slither.

She inhaled deeply, nodding as she reached for a carrot stick from Pietro’s plate.  “I’m fine.” 

“Are you really?” 

She shrugged, crunching into it.  “I will be.” 

Slithering might get her to safety.  But it was such a humbling process. 

* * *

 

Her hand smarted something awful.  She shook it and looked down at the ground, now spinning below her.  “Uh-oh…” she wobbled and felt strong arms hold her up.  She followed them up until she focused on Pietro’s face.  He was so pretty. She wanted to kiss him.  Right here.    

“I can’t believe you did that!  _I_ wanted to hit him!” Pietro shook his head in a not-quite-disappointed way.  Like he wanted to be disappointed, but couldn’t be.

“So hit him.”  That was Wade’s contribution. 

“What?  Hit a crying man? No way.  It wouldn’t be any fun.” 

“I’m not crying!”  spluttered someone on the ground. 

Right.  The ground.  Outside the bar.  The bar where Weasel worked.  They were at Sister Mary Margaret’s. 

It all started to rush back at once.  The radio show.  The betrayal.  The momentous-fuck up that was her last show. 

_“I know what you need.  ALCOHOL,” Wade insisted.  “It’s Margarita night at Sister Mary Margaret’s!”_

Margaritas.  Oy.  She’d had three.  Or Four.  Or…something like that.  Enough to make her wobbly and giggly. 

Pietro was underage; he didn’t turn twenty-one for a few weeks.  So he was the designated driver to a completely sloshed Darcy and Wade. 

And then…and then… _IAN._

Ian was here.  She didn’t know why.  Or how.  But he was here.  And now he was there.  On the ground.  With a broken nose. 

And her hand _REALLY_ hurt.

“OW…” she said loudly, inspecting her hand.  “Your…fuckin’ face hurt my hand…Ian Douche-by.” 

He spouted off some profanity and she remembered why she’d hit him. 

_“Drowning your sorrows, Darcy?  Gonna need all the help you can get when you have to retake the seminar next semester.”_

And BAM!  POW!  Right in the kisser.  Or the sniffer…as it turned out. 

Some security guy from the bar came out, looked Ian over.  Pronounced him fine and sent him on his way with a little aside to Darcy, telling her to keep her hands to herself in the future. 

She started to respond, but Pietro herded her away from Ian and the security guy, practically dragging Wade along too.      

He sucked his teeth at her in the car, shaking his head even as a smile spread across his face.  “I can’t believe you did that, Lewis. You are so fucking hot.” 

She shrugged. “I’m a cobra.” 

Pietro chuckled.  “A _drunk_ cobra.” 

“But still a cobra…” she insisted. 

They had to stop once on the way home for Darcy “The Cobra” Lewis to puke out the passenger side door. 

Pietro stayed with her the whole night, holding her hair back while she hugged the commode and vowed never to drink margaritas again. 

Even though she spent the night puking…Darcy felt a little bit of her pride seep back in.  She glanced down at her hand.  Bruised and slightly swollen from the connect with Ian’s face. 

Puking was not slithering. 

She wasn’t a grass snake.  She was a cobra.

“Still a cobra, Piet…” she whispered. 

His hand rubbed over her back.  “Yep, you certainly are.”    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3
> 
> There will be more Pietro in the last chapter, I promise.


	14. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well. Here it is. Finally. 
> 
> I tried to tie up all the loose ends here. I hope it's good enough. ;) 
> 
> Smut at the beginning. *wink wink*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed. Because. I'm done. ;)

Pietro’s breath was hot on her face.  “You okay?” he whispered.  

“Yes…” Darcy replied, wrapping her legs around his waist.  His back felt cool and damp with sweat and he readjusted their position to hit just the right angle to get her to squeal.  “You know…” she stopped talking to moan slightly, “It doesn’t have to be jaw-dropping every time, Piet…” 

“That’s where you’re wrong…” he smirked and readjusted once more, snapping his hips forward.  She moaned as his hard length pressed right against her g-spot. 

Her toes curled and he let out a groan that was most definitely of relief as he plunged into her over and over again, spurred on by her sporadic panting of his name. 

The head board banged against the wall and if they weren’t so sure they were alone, that would have stopped them.  But they were alone in the house and Pietro could punch the headboard through the wall, fucking her as the ceiling fell down around them and no one would care.  At least…not until someone had to fix it. 

She was clenching around him, could feel the warmth of her impending release creeping over her. 

Whining, she bucked her hips up against him as he gripped handfuls of the sheets on either side of her head.  She reached down to where they were joined, letting two fingers rub small circles over her clit in time with his thrusting. 

It only took three more of those thrusts to have her falling over the edge.  Her voice sounded raspy and her vision went white around the edges as the sensations rolled through her, leaving her completely satiated from her head to her toes. 

He must have finished at some point during hers, because he was still when she started paying attention again.  His forehead pressed against hers.  His lips pecking at hers every so often. 

“Was that good, my _Princeza?”_ he whispered. 

“Do you even have to ask?” 

He hummed, a chuckle rumbling from deep in his chest.  “I don’t…but I like to…” 

“Dude.  Do I need to write and publish an epic poem about your bedroom skills in order for you to believe me when I say you’re the best?” 

“It might help…” 

She laughed and kissed him.  Let her tongue explore his mouth a little.  “Well.  It’s going to have to wait.  There’s a certain...prior obligation we have to attend…” 

“Darcy…” he groaned and rolled off her.  “I don’t want to go.” 

“Pietro.  It’s _your_ birthday party. I’m pretty sure you HAVE to go. Besides, Wanda’s going to be there.  Her birthday too.”

“She’s not coming to see me.  She’s coming to see Wade.  And our birthday was on Wednesday.” 

Darcy sighed and rolled over, tucking herself against his side.  “I know.  I remember Wednesday very well…” she whispered, her words dripping with double meaning. 

He grinned.  “Birthday sex is the best sex.” 

“I’m so very glad you liked my gift.” 

“What wasn’t to like?  I got to unwrap it myself…and play with it right away.  Best present ever.” 

She knew she was blushing, but she pushed forward.  “And Wade is being a good friend and throwing you guys a party at Weasel’s bar.  You’re twenty-one now.  And you’re getting free drinks.  It’ll be fun.  Don’t worry.” 

“Yeah.  Well.  If Ian shows up again, I get to punch him this time, okay?  It’s MY turn to punch him.  And it’s my birthday party.” 

Darcy grinned.  “I don’t THINK he’s going to show up…I mean…he’d have to have some balls.  And believe me…I don’t think he has the balls.” 

Pietro sat up, smirking to himself.  “Considering he tried to blame Lexie for sabotaging your show…” 

“Well, she wasn’t blameless.  She DID do it.” 

“Yeah.  But she had his sign-in.” 

“I still feel bad.  They both got expelled.  I mean…I just wanted Ian to fail his seminar course…have to retake it next year…push off his graduation…” 

Pietro shook his head, leaning over to kiss her.  “Don’t feel bad.  They deserved it.” 

“Easy for you to say...you’re not the reason—“ 

“And neither are you.  You didn’t ask for any of it.  AND before you even say it, you _do_ deserve to have your show in syndication.” 

She snorted. “You’re just saying that, because you’re my biggest fan.” 

He reached for her, pulled her close.  “Damn right I’m your biggest fan…I want everyone to see how amazing you are…” 

She giggled as he kissed her.  “Well, get ready, biggest fan.  ‘Cause ‘Shipline’ is going to be broadcast in college campuses all over the region.  I’m sure tens of people will hear it.” 

He laughed, “More than that…it’s a good show.  And that’s NOT just because I’m in love with the host.” 

“Shhhh…” she pressed her fingertips to his lips.  “Don’t say that.” 

“Why not?  I am.  I’m in love with you.  Let me tell you how much…or better yet...SHOW you how much...”

“If I do that, we won’t have time to go to the party, Smart Guy.” 

Pietro sighed dramatically.  “It was worth a shot…” He stood, walking over to the doorway to pick up his underwear from the floor where he’d left them.  “I’m going to go shower.  I love you, I’ll be back soon.” He ducked into the bathroom. 

“Stop it.”

His head reappeared in the doorway.  “Never.”

Darcy couldn’t stop smiling.  She did love him.  She knew that.  And he knew that.  She just…wasn’t ready to say it yet.  She was waiting for the right time.    

* * *

 

“YOU’RE SHITTING ME…” Darcy said, her eyes widened.  “Are you…are you FOR REAL right now?” 

“Yes!” Wanda insisted, slinging her arm around Wade’s shoulders and pulling him close for a kiss.  “He told me last week.  I got to go see him fight!” 

“A wrestler, though? Wade?  _This_ Wade?  Wade Wilson?  Him?” Darcy slurped loudly at the ice in her glass.      

“You say this like you don’t believe me…” Wade chuckled.  “I’m hurt, Darcy.  HURT.” 

“I’m sorry.  I just…I mean, I guess it makes sense…all the black eyes and head injuries…”  Darcy shook her head, turning towards Pietro, who was working his way through his fourth beer.  “You.  You don’t look as surprised as I do.  Look more surprised.” 

Pietro smiled lazily, letting his head fall on her shoulder briefly before he looked up at her with a goofy grin.  “I’m _not_ surprised…” 

Darcy gasped.  “You KNEW.  TRAITORS.  All of you, Traitors!” 

“What?  Pietro didn’t know…” Wade scoffed.  “No.  I mean.  If he knew…then…I mean…he’d have had dirt on me.  And that’s not.  That’s just not possible.” 

Pietro shrugged and grinned wider.  “I knew.  I knew and I didn’t tell anyone.  NO ONE, Wade.  I told no one.  Not even you…” he paused, laughing for a moment.  “I didn’t even tell…ME.  Or anyone.” 

“Okayyyy, that’s enough of THAT, I think…Wade reached for Pietro’s beer and handed it off to Darcy.  “How’s about we go for a walk, Buddy?” 

Wade had kindly offered to be the designated driver that evening.  And he was being an all-around nice guy to Pietro.  Which meant he was probably going to make a play to get his old room back or something. 

Darcy couldn’t really worry about it right then; she was still trying to wrap her brain around Wade being a wrestler. A masked wrestler at that.  With a black and red mask.  And a Spanish Wrestler Name.  _La Piscina Muerte._

“A wrestler, though?  Wade?” she repeated, slurping on her ice again. 

“Oh, did you finally find out?” Weasel asked, leaning in to take their empties away. “So I can stop hiding it from you? Thank God…”  Darcy made a squeak of protest when he took her nearly empty glass away. “You know I can get you another one, right?”     

“Is that how you know Wade?” Darcy asked. “Through the wrestling or whatever?” 

Weasel shrugged. “I like to think I’ve always known Wade…or at least…the memory of him has been so seared into my psyche that I can’t remember a time without him…you ladies want more margaritas or something else?”

“Something else…” Wanda drawled with a wide grin.  Apparently both of the Maximoffs were lightweights.  Something that entertained Darcy to no end. 

“Coffee…” Darcy said.  “And some potato skins, if you have the time.” 

“Awww.  For you guys, I have nothing but time…” Weasel smiled sweetly.  “I mean, since this is all on Wade’s dime and he’s _KNOWN_ for paying people back.  I mean he doesn’t owe me hundreds of dollars at all, so I should definitely not have this pit in my stomach whenever I think about how much this is going to cost…” he trailed off for a moment. 

Darcy snorted.  “I’ll take care of mine and Pietro’s tab if that makes you feel better.” 

“Don’t worry about it.  Think of it as my birthday gift for Pietro.  And you know.  A thanks for letting me live with you guys.” 

She laughed, “Hey, listen.  You CLEAN stuff.  Do you know how much easier it is living with someone else who CLEANS?”

Weasel took all the glasses and went back up to the bar.   

“Is Pietro with you?” Darcy turned towards the face, a tiny bit schnockered and not expecting to see Lexie standing there, drumming her manicured nails on the tabletop.  She raised her hands in surrender when she locked eyes with Darcy.  “I come in peace, I swear. Just wanted to apologize.  To both of y’all…” 

Darcy searched her face for a few minutes, not looking away until Weasel plopped two mugs of coffee down on their table.  She mixed some sugar and cream into Wanda’s and nudged it towards her.  “Apologize for what?”

“You know…being a bitch.  Tryin’ to sabotage your show…I…” she sighed and dragged a chair over, plopping down in it. “I don’t even WANT Pietro anymore.  I was just embarrassed that you kicked my ass.  And I mean.  I’m goin’ back home.  My daddy’s gonna get me into a college near there and…” she trailed off.  “I just didn’t want you guys thinkin’ I was gonna come after you…cook your rabbit or whatever.  I—I just…I’m not used to losing.” 

“No way, I’d have _never_ have guessed that…” Darcy rolled her eyes and stirred her own coffee. 

“I mean…you don’t hafta forgive me or nothin’.  I just.  I needed to do it, ya know?” 

“I still think you’re a bitch.  With fake hair.” 

Lexie shrugged, “I still think _you’re_ a bitch.  With fake boobs.” 

Darcy snorted. “Oh honey…” She shook her head and stared at her own hands for a moment.  “Hey Lexie…what happened to Ian?” 

Lexie sniffed.  “He went back to England.” 

“Aww.  He’s gone?  Piet wanted to punch him.” 

The other girl laughed.  “Thought you did enough of a number on him.  You’re a little punch-happy, you know, Darcy?” 

“I guess that’s just me.” Darcy didn't really think it was a bad thing to be.  Punch-happy.     

“Do you… _mind_ if I go and apologize to Pietro? I won’t like…try anything. Bitch’s honor?  From one to another?”  Lexie smiled her fake smile and Darcy rolled her eyes. 

“Whatever.  He’s outside with Wade.” 

“Wade?” Lexie frowned.  “Oh right. The wrestler guy that lives with you?” 

Darcy’s mouth fell open as she watched the blonde maneuver her way to the door.  “Are you KIDDING me?  I’m the literal ONLY person who didn’t know?”  Wanda snickered from beneath her arms. “Drink your coffee, Wanda.” 

* * *

 

It wasn’t hard to find the guys outside later, leaning on the hood of Wade’s car and laughing loudly.  Tossing gravel out into a larger pile of gravel.  General shenanigans that young people got into.   

Wanda tucked herself under Wade’s arm and Darcy smacked the back of his head for letting her be the last to find out that he was a wrestler.  He seemed to know it was coming, because he shot her an apologetic look.  

She wrapped her arms around Pietro.  She stood between his spread legs, leaning into his body and tucking her head under his chin.  “Happy Birthday, Jerkface.”

He sniffed.  “Not _really_ my birthday.  But thanks.  And I love you too.” 

“Nuh-uh.  Haven’t said it yet.” 

“Yes you have.” 

“Have not.” 

“Have too.  You say it all the time.  Just not…verbally.” 

She shrugged.  “Wouldn’t hold up in a court of law.” 

“Holds up in the court of…ME.” 

She laughed.  “I love you.” 

“See?” 

She swatted his arm.  “I love you, Pietro Maximoff.” 

“Love you too, Darcy Lewis.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, y'all! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://dresupi.tumblr.com)


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